Chapter 6 - THE RAT IN THE ROOMFriday night, a knock echoed on my hotel room door. I looked through the peephole. It was Eric.
Against Sarah's advice, I let my youngest son in. He looked frantic, sweating through his t-shirt. "Dad, you gotta stop this. Mom is terrified. The police came by to ask questions. Just drop the investigation, let her keep half the money, and she won't force the dementia thing in court."
"She stole my life savings, Eric," I said quietly. "Are you really defending her?"
Eric lunged. He didn't go for me; he went for the coffee table where Sarah's smartwatch lay charging—the watch that had the audio recording of Martha refusing to call an ambulance for me.
Before he could grab it, David stepped out of the adjoining room and slammed his little brother against the wall.
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"Don't you dare," David snarled. "Mom paid off your student loans with Dad's money, didn't she? We saw the transfer history."
Eric collapsed onto the floor, sobbing. He was an accessory. We threw him out, but now we knew: Martha was panicking.
