Chapter 6 - The Morning After
Sunlight cut through the tall studio windows at dawn, casting long, sharp lines across my drafting desk.
I hadn't slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I could still hear the ceramic dinner plate shattering against the wall, the wet tink of blood hitting the hardwood, and little Sophie’s terrified gasp in the doorway.
My right hand throbbed beneath the clean white gauze, a dull reminder of the six nylon stitches holding my palm together. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the electric clarity buzzing in my mind.
Outside, the main house looked dead. No cars were idling in the circular drive. The heavy velvet curtains on the living room windows remained tightly drawn. They were huddled inside like rats in a sinking ship, realizing for the first time in their lives that their last name was no longer a shield against the law.
My phone buzzed on the wooden workbench.
It wasn't Lucas or my mother this time. It was an email notification from the county records office, confirming the digital timestamp on my grandfather’s irrevocable land trust deed. Attached was a formal confirmation from Detective Vance (no relation, thankfully) acknowledging receipt of my complete evidentiary archive: three years of text message harassment, voicemails demanding illegal eviction, and last night’s police body-cam footage.
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The case wasn't just building itself. It was an avalanche.
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