Chapter 6 - The Sister's Betrayal
I stared at Heather in absolute disbelief as she stood in my ruined living room with two armed thugs.
She was wearing a designer coat funded by the very money she had helped steal from my grandmother.
"You are actually going to hold your own sister at gunpoint for a house?" I asked, my voice trembling with disgust.
Heather rolled her eyes and crossed her arms impatiently.
"Mom and Dad are idiots who left a paper trail, but I am not going down with them," she sneered.
She demanded the brass key, explaining that she planned to destroy the real will and sell the house herself before skipping town.
Marcus stepped protectively in front of Mia and me, gripping his heavy metal flashlight tightly.
"If you shoot us, the whole neighborhood will hear it, silencer or not," Marcus bluffed bravely.
Heather laughed a cold, hollow laugh.
"We aren't going to shoot you," she smiled wickedly. "We are just going to tie you up while we go to the bank."
The two thugs stepped forward, pulling thick plastic zip-ties from their pockets.
Before they could reach us, Mia suddenly held up her cell phone, its screen glowing brightly in the dim room.
"I have been live-streaming this entire conversation to a public Facebook group with ten thousand members," Mia announced calmly.
Heather’s confident smirk instantly vanished, replaced by sheer, unadulterated panic.
"She is lying, grab her phone!" Heather screamed at the men.
One of the thugs lunged forward, but Marcus swung the heavy flashlight with all his might, catching the man squarely in the jaw.
The thug collapsed onto the shattered floorboards, entirely unconscious.
The second armed man looked at the camera on Mia's phone, realized his face was broadcasting to thousands of people, and immediately ran out the back door.
Heather was left standing completely alone, defenseless and exposed to the entire internet.
She turned and sprinted toward her luxury car parked down the street, abandoning her unconscious hired muscle on our rug.
I called 911 immediately, reporting the armed break-in and handing the security footage directly to the dispatcher.
The police arrived within minutes, arresting the unconscious thug and putting out a massive city-wide alert for Heather.
We did not wait around to answer redundant questions.
We drove straight back to the bank, gripping the brass key like it was a winning lottery ticket.
We presented the key to the vault teller, who escorted us into the secure, steel-lined room.
I turned the key in the lock, pulled the heavy metal drawer out, and opened the lid.
Inside was a pristine manila folder containing the original, fully notarized will and a handwritten letter from my grandmother.
May you like
As I picked up the letter, a heavy hand suddenly slammed down onto my shoulder from behind.
"I will be taking that folder now," David, the corrupt bank manager, whispered menacingly in my ear.
