Chapter 3
The words hung in the air like a physical blow, stripping the color straight from Mark’s face. He stumbled backward until the back of his knees hit the edge of the grey sofa, his breath hitching in his throat.
“What?” Mark choked out, his eyes darting frantically between Detective Vance and Elena’s impassive face. “That’s... that’s impossible. We didn’t change any policy. We don’t have that kind of money.”
Elena chuckled softly, a dry, dismissive sound that cut through the stifling tension of the living room like a razor blade. She reached into the pocket of her black pants, withdrawing her own smartphone with casual elegance. With a few swift taps of her thumb, she spun the screen around and laid it flat on the glass coffee table facing the detective.
“Mark likes to dabble in high-risk cryptocurrency investments,” Elena explained, her voice dripping with calculated pity. “When his portfolio crashed last month, he needed liquidity. He forged Clara’s signature on the digital rider last Tuesday. I only found out this morning when the confirmation email hit my shared family server.”
Mark lunged forward, his hands slamming onto the glass coffee table as he glared at his sister-in-law. “You lying psychopath! You hacked my account! You set this whole thing up to ruin me!”
“Quiet, Mr. Hayes,” Detective Vance ordered, stepping smoothly between the two men with her hand resting near her service weapon. She leaned over the coffee table, her eyes scanning the metadata on Elena’s phone screen. The IP address linked to the insurance modification matched the residential router sitting on the living room media console.
Sarah looked up, her expression hardening into a mask of professional skepticism. “Mr. Hayes, this digital signature bears your exact personal authentication key. Unless someone stole your device, you authorized this transaction.”
“Someone did!” Mark pleaded, his voice breaking as a tear finally slipped down his cheek. He pointed toward Clara, who was beginning to stir, letting out a faint, painful groan against the hardwood floor. “Clara... Clara, tell her! Tell her Elena is lying!”
Clara blinked open her eyes, her hand moving sluggishly to her temple where a dark bruise was already beginning to form beneath her tied-back hair. She winced, her green top rustling as she tried to push herself up onto her elbows.
“Mark...” Clara whispered, her voice weak and disoriented. She looked past her husband, her terrified eyes locking directly onto her sister. A profound, bone-chilling terror washed over Clara’s face as she saw the look Elena was giving her.
“Don’t look at her, look at me,” Sarah commanded gently, kneeling beside Clara again. “Did your sister push you, Mrs. Hayes?”
Clara opened her mouth to speak, but before a single sound could escape her lips, Elena let out a long, theatrical sigh and shook her head sadly.
May you like
“Poor Clara,” Elena murmured, stepping closer with a sickening display of sisterly concern. “She’s had these psychotic dissociative episodes ever since the miscarriage last year. She honestly believes I’m the enemy.”
Clara froze, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at her sister in absolute horror.
