Chapter 28 - Back in the Kitchen
The house belonged to the government now.
Still, walking into that kitchen felt like entering a grave.
Frank came with me.
Victoria too.
Federal agents surrounded the property.
I stood on the exact tile where Margaret had once stepped over me while I begged for water.
My leg began trembling.
Victoria reached for me.
I shook my head.
“No.”
I needed to stand there.
Not because I was fearless.
Because I wasn't.
Frank removed the tile.
Beneath it was a metal compartment.
Inside:
A second ledger.
Three flash drives.
Property deeds.
Bank records.
And photographs.
Enough evidence to dismantle everything Richard had built.
Then the lights went out.
Frank cursed.
A gunshot exploded outside.
“Down!”
Victoria pulled me behind the island.
Glass shattered.
Someone entered through the back.
Richard.
He held a gun.
His face looked nothing like the polished photograph anymore.
“You should have stopped,” he said.
I looked up at him.
“So I've been told.”
He aimed at me.
Victoria stepped in front of the gun.
“No.”
Richard stared at his sister.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Victoria.”
“You've taken enough.”
His hand tightened.
Frank moved behind the counter.
Richard heard him.
“Don't.”
Another gunshot outside.
Richard flinched.
That was enough.
I grabbed the heavy cast-iron skillet from the lower shelf.
The same kind Margaret used to keep beside the stove.
I swung.
It struck Richard's wrist.
The gun hit the floor.
Frank tackled him.
Victoria kicked the weapon away.
Federal agents stormed the kitchen.
Richard fought.
Screamed.
Threatened.
Promised everyone would regret this.
Then they dragged him across the same floor where I had once been unable to stand.
At the doorway, Richard twisted toward me.
“This isn't over!”
I looked at him.
For the first time, that kitchen felt small.
Not me.
The kitchen.
The house.
The Vances.
Richard.
All of them.
May you like
“Yes,” I said.
“It is.”
