Chapter 3 - The TrustI watched the video again.
My father.
A stranger.
The hallway.
Those words.
“If the baby is born, we lose everything.”
My hands shook.
“That can’t be real.”
Ethan sat beside me.
“It is.”
“Maybe there’s context.”
“Claire, your father was talking about your unborn daughter.”
I looked away.
I wanted him to be wrong.
I wanted my family to be cruel, selfish, greedy, anything but this.
But then I remembered the documents.
My grandmother's trust.
She had been the wealthiest person in our family.
When she died, she left the majority of her estate to my mother.
But there was one condition.
My mother would retain the assets only until I had a child.
Then control would begin transferring into a protected trust for my daughter.
When my daughter turned twenty-five, she would receive the final inheritance.
That had never seemed threatening.
Until now.
I told Ethan everything.
His expression darkened.
“How much?”
“Almost twenty million dollars.”
He stared at me.
“And your mother loses control when the baby is born?”
“Not all of it. But most.”
“Then there’s your motive.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“My parents love money, but they wouldn’t hurt their granddaughter.”
Ethan didn’t answer.
That silence hurt more than words.
The door opened.
Detective Morgan walked in.
A woman in her forties.
Sharp eyes.
Dark suit.
No wasted movement.
“I’m Detective Morgan Ellis.”
She looked at me.
“I was told there was a physical assault involving a pregnant woman.”
“Yes.”
“And there may be evidence of financial motivation.”
My stomach tightened.
“How did you know?”
“Your husband called.”
Ethan nodded.
“And your cousin has provided the video.”
My heart sank.
“What happens now?”
“We need statements.”
“From everyone?”
“Everyone who was present.”
She glanced at the hospital door.
“Your parents are here.”
My pulse quickened.
“Do not let them in.”
Detective Morgan nodded.
“They won’t be allowed to enter without your permission.”
Then she turned toward Ethan.
“Your cousin also gave us something else.”
“What?”
“A copy of the inheritance documents.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
Detective Morgan placed a folder on the table.
“These were found in your mother’s car.”
My stomach dropped.
“They were hidden under the spare tire.”
I stared at the folder.
“They stole them?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Detective Morgan opened it.
“There’s something unusual.”
She pulled out the final page.
My grandmother's signature.
Then another signature underneath it.
One that wasn't supposed to be there.
I recognized it immediately.
My father's.
“He forged this?”
“Possibly.”
“What does it say?”
Detective Morgan pointed to a paragraph.
“There's an amendment.”
I leaned closer.
It stated that if I died before giving birth, custody of my unborn child would transfer to my parents.
My blood turned cold.
“That's impossible.”
“The amendment is undated.”
“And my grandmother never wrote this.”
“That's what we'll need to establish.”
Ethan leaned forward.
“Who is the man in the video?”
Detective Morgan looked at him.
“We’re trying to identify him.”
Then her phone rang.
She listened for several seconds.
Her expression changed.
“Repeat that.”
She stood.
The room became silent.
“What happened?” I asked.
Detective Morgan ended the call.
“The lab has preliminary results.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“What did they find?”
She looked directly at me.
“The substance in your blood appears to be a sedative.”
I closed my eyes.
“But I only drank two sips.”
“Exactly.”
Ethan stood.
“Could the sedative have caused the fetal distress?”
“Yes.”
“And the kick?”
Detective Morgan's jaw tightened.
“That could have made the situation significantly worse.”
I covered my face.
Someone had drugged me.
Someone had attacked me.
Someone wanted my baby gone.
Then Detective Morgan added:
“There’s one more problem.”
I looked up.
“What?”
She placed a photograph on the table.
It showed my mother.
Standing outside the hospital.
Talking to the same unknown man from the video.
May you like
And in his hand was something that made my blood run cold.
A syringe.
