Chapter 5 - The Trust Fund
I froze, clutching the laptop tightly against my chest.
The heavy footsteps in the hallway were moving slowly and deliberately toward the guest bedroom.
I looked around frantically for a place to hide, but the room was completely bare.
I dove under the bed just as the bedroom door swung open.
From my hiding spot, I could only see a pair of expensive leather shoes walking across the carpet.
It was my father.
He walked directly to the closet and began rummaging through the shelves, tossing blankets and boxes onto the floor.
"Where is it?" he muttered to himself in a furious whisper.
He was looking for the laptop.
He knew he had been sloppy, and he had come back to destroy the evidence.
When he realized the shelf was empty, he let out a string of vicious curses and kicked the closet door.
He stormed out of the room, leaving the door wide open.
I waited until I heard his footsteps descending the main staircase before I carefully crawled out from under the bed.
I needed to get out of the house, but I also needed to know why my father had suddenly turned into a monster.
I slipped out of the bedroom and crept down the hallway toward his private study.
The door was slightly ajar, and a sliver of light spilled out onto the hardwood floor.
I peeked through the crack and saw my father frantically spinning the dial on his wall safe.
The heavy metal door clicked open, and he pulled out a thick stack of legal documents bound in red tape.
He threw the documents onto his mahogany desk and pulled out a silver lighter.
Before he could spark the flame, his cell phone rang loudly, startling him.
"What is it, Vanessa?" my father barked into the phone.
I pressed my ear against the door, holding my breath.
"The CPS worker is getting nervous," Vanessa's voice echoed through the phone speaker.
"If Lily wakes up and talks, the trust fund automatically defaults to Camille."
My father rubbed his temples, his face pale with stress.
"Lily is not going to wake up," my father promised darkly.
"The doctor said her kidneys are already failing from the antifreeze."
"Once she is gone, Emma becomes the firstborn legitimate grandchild, and the fifty million dollars transfers to you."
My blood ran completely cold.
This entire nightmare was orchestrated over a fifty million dollar generational trust fund that required a living heir.
They were slaughtering my child for money.
"Just make sure you burn the original will, Dad," Vanessa warned.
"I am doing it right now," my father replied, hanging up the phone.
He picked up the silver lighter again and flicked the flame.
May you like
I didn't think about the consequences.
I kicked the study door open and charged into the room.
