Chapter 6 - The Confession
The detective’s words hit me harder than the physical blow to my face had earlier.
"That's a lie," I rasped, the lingering effects of the drug making my voice sound weak and hollow.
"Sarah would never sign away her child."
The detective slid a piece of paper across the metal table, tapping the signature line with his pen.
I stared at the document, my heart sinking as I recognized Sarah’s perfect, elegant handwriting.
"She signed it an hour ago before they transferred her back to the hospital’s psychiatric wing," he explained coldly.
"Vance's lawyers processed the emergency custody transfer with a judge who owed them a favor."
I pulled against the handcuffs, the metal biting painfully into my bruised wrists.
"Vance is a billionaire psychopath who bought a baby on the black market!" I screamed.
The detective sighed, closing the folder and looking at me with absolute pity.
"Mr. Vance is a respected philanthropist who was brutally attacked in your brother’s home," the detective corrected.
"And thanks to your sister-in-law's confession, you and your brother are free to go."
He unlocked my handcuffs, the heavy metal clanking loudly against the table.
I rubbed my sore wrists, my mind racing as I tried to figure out a way to fix this nightmare.
The detective opened the interrogation room door, gesturing for me to leave.
David was waiting for me in the precinct lobby, looking like a man who had entirely lost his soul.
His clothes were stained with Vance's blood, and his eyes were completely hollow.
"David, we have to get a lawyer, we have to fight this," I pleaded, grabbing his arm.
David slowly shook his head, staring blankly at the precinct doors.
"My mother froze all of our bank accounts while we were in holding," David whispered.
"We have absolutely nothing left."
I felt a wave of profound despair wash over me, realizing the grandmother had orchestrated this flawlessly.
We walked out into the cold morning air, entirely defeated and stripped of the only thing that mattered.
As we stood on the sidewalk, a sleek, black limousine pulled up perfectly in front of us.
The tinted back window slowly rolled down, revealing the bruised and arrogant face of the aunt.
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"Get in," the aunt commanded, holding up a small, familiar pink sock.
"If you ever want to see your niece alive again, you will do exactly what I say."
