Evan looked at me as if he had just realized the coffin was not the trap.
I was.
“You bitter old woman,” he whispered.
Celeste recovered first. “This means nothing. He’s the CEO. He has lawyers.”
I stepped closer to her.
“And I have recordings.”
Her face shifted—just for a fraction of a second.
But it was enough.
I turned to the mourners, to Evan’s board members sitting rigid in the second pew, to the detective standing near the rear door in a dark coat.
“My daughter documented everything,” I said. “Every threat. Every transfer. Every doctor he bribed to call her unstable. Every message from Celeste telling her to disappear before the baby ruined their future.”
Celeste stepped back.
Evan seized her wrist too tightly. “Shut up.”
Mr. Halden lifted another envelope.
“And one final instruction,” he said.
The room fell silent again.
“If Evan attends my funeral with Celeste Marrow, play the file labeled Church.”
