Chapter 3 - The familiar enemy
I stared at the detective, completely paralyzed by his terrifying words. Lila would never say such a horrible thing, especially since I had never raised a hand to her in my life. "You are lying to me," I choked out, tears burning my eyes. "She is terrified of you, Rowan," he replied smoothly. "I want to speak to the CPS advocate who supposedly took this confession," I demanded. The detective smiled in a way that made my blood run absolutely cold. He stood up and opened the interrogation room door. The clicking sound of expensive high heels echoed down the concrete hallway. A woman stepped into the harsh fluorescent light of the small room. She wore a pristine white Chanel suit, her hair perfectly styled, her posture rigid and unforgiving. My breath caught in my throat. It was Eleanor, my own mother. The same woman who had thrown me out into the street fourteen years ago. "Hello, Rowan," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "What are you doing here, and where is my daughter?" I shouted, pulling furiously at my handcuffs. Eleanor calmly pulled out a leather chair and sat across from me. "I am the emergency foster placement for my darling granddaughter," she smiled. "You are not family to us, you called me a stain and abandoned me," I cried. "Things change when a billion dollars is on the line," Eleanor replied softly so the detective could not hear. She leaned across the metal table. "Arthur Vance was my stepfather, and that money belongs to me," she hissed. "If you do not plead guilty to his murder today, I will make sure Lila disappears forever."
