Chapter 5 - The Secret AccountEthan accessed the family financial records through an old shared account.
We discovered something strange.
Three days before Lily died, Richard transferred $75,000 into an offshore account.
The account belonged to a company registered under a name I didn't recognize.
Crownstone Consulting.
“Who owns it?”
Ethan searched.
“Grandma.”
I stared at the screen.
Evelyn.
My mother-in-law.
The woman who had called my daughter a mistake.
The woman who had tried to silence me at her funeral.
The woman who had been asking about the insurance.
I couldn't understand it.
“Why would she need seventy-five thousand dollars?”
Ethan opened the transaction history.
There were more payments.
$25,000.
$40,000.
$60,000.
All from Richard.
Then one payment made the room go silent.
$150,000.
Two weeks before Lily died.
The recipient?
Dr. Samuel Crane.
I felt sick.
“Medical expenses?”
“No.”
Ethan shook his head.
“Consulting.”
I looked at him.
“What kind of consulting?”
“None listed.”
Then we found another file.
A text conversation.
Evelyn: Everything is ready.
Richard: Are you sure?
Evelyn: She won't suspect anything.
Richard: And the insurance?
Evelyn: Already handled.
I covered my mouth.
The messages were dated four days before Lily died.
Ethan kept scrolling.
Then he found something worse.
Richard: What about the brakes?
Evelyn: Marcus won't talk.
Richard: Then make sure he doesn't.
My entire body went cold.
Ethan stared at the screen.
“They did it.”
I couldn't speak.
My daughter hadn't died because of rain.
She had been murdered.
My husband and mother-in-law had planned it.
But why?
Then I saw another message.
Evelyn: Once Lily is gone, Richard gets the money.
And another.
Evelyn: Then Claire becomes the problem.
I stopped breathing.
My name.
My mother-in-law had been planning around me.
Ethan whispered:
“They weren't only after Lily's insurance.”
I looked at him.
“They were after yours.”
My hands began shaking.
“Mine?”
“You have a life insurance policy.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
I knew the answer.
Five million dollars.
My husband was the beneficiary.
Suddenly everything became clear.
Lily's death had been the first step.
I was supposed to be next.
The chapel.
The funeral.
The insurance texts.
Everything.
Ethan stood.
“We need to go to the police.”
I nodded.
But before we could move, the lights in his apartment went out.
We both froze.
Then someone knocked on the door.
Three slow knocks.
Ethan whispered:
“Don't answer.”
The knocking stopped.
Then a piece of paper slid underneath the door.
I picked it up.
May you like
Four words were written in black ink.
Stop digging. Or you're next.
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