Chapter 5 - The Poisoned Well
The news anchor solemnly reported that my parents were currently in critical condition at the local hospital.
They had been discovered unresponsive in their living room, suffering from a severe toxic overdose.
The police had found a half-empty bottle of prescription painkillers sitting on the kitchen counter.
The name printed on the prescription label belonged to me.
My brother had successfully planted my old medication to frame me for their attempted murder.
He was systematically destroying every single aspect of my life to ensure I went to prison forever.
If my parents died, my brother and my sister would inherit everything, including the money they stole from me.
I immediately called Marcus on the burner phone and told him to turn on the local news.
Marcus cursed loudly and told me to stay away from the windows and keep the deadbolt locked.
He promised to send a private security team to guard my hotel room door within the hour.
I sat on the edge of the bed, realizing that my siblings were completely unhinged psychopaths.
They were willing to murder our own parents just to secure a payday and eliminate me as a threat.
I could not just sit in this hotel room and wait for the corrupt legal system to fail me again.
I opened my laptop and connected to a secure virtual private network.
I used my old administrative passwords to break into my brother's home network router.
I spent three grueling hours digging through his encrypted personal folders and hidden cloud drives.
I finally struck absolute gold in a folder labeled with my sister's initials.
It was a highly detailed digital manifesto outlining their entire plot to steal my assets and murder our parents.
My brother had meticulously documented every single forged document, fake police report, and financial transfer.
He had even drafted a fake suicide note for me, planning to hang me in my own garage once the heat died down.
I quickly downloaded the entire manifesto onto a secure external flash drive.
I heard a heavy, metallic click coming from the hallway right outside my hotel room.
The doorknob slowly began to turn, but the heavy steel deadbolt held it firmly in place.
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A familiar voice whispered through the crack in the door, sending a terrifying shiver down my spine.
It was Mark, my sister's allegedly dead ex-husband, and he promised to break the door down in ten seconds.
