Chapter 1 - Twenty Minutes
The first thing I heard was Rachel screaming that I had stolen her future.
The second was the crack inside my chest when Marcus drove his fist into my ribs.
I stumbled into the kitchen counter, sending a bowl of apples crashing onto the floor. They rolled through the blood dripping from my split lip while Rachel stared at me without the slightest hint of sympathy.
“Three million dollars,” she shouted. “You sold the farm for three million dollars, and you think you can keep it?”
“It was my farm,” I struggled to say. “Your father and I built it. You abandoned it.”
Rachel slammed her hand on the counter. “I’m your daughter!”
“And I’m your son,” Marcus added, adjusting the sleeve of his expensive jacket. “We’re entitled to our share.”
I looked at the two children I had spent my life protecting. Rachel hadn’t set foot on the farm in years. Marcus only remembered I existed when he wanted money.
After their father died, I paid off Marcus’s student loans. I bailed Rachel out after her boutique failed. I never asked either of them to repay me. I only hoped they would become decent people.
Instead, every sacrifice I made convinced them I would always give more.
Selling the farm only made things worse. They insisted I move into the house Rachel was living in “until I figured things out.” It didn’t take long before I realized I wasn’t family anymore. I was their maid.
Every morning Rachel left a list of chores on the kitchen table. Clean the bathrooms. Wash the dishes. Vacuum the house. Do the laundry. Cook dinner. If I sat down for a few minutes because my back hurt, she called me lazy and said I should be grateful they were “letting” me stay there.
Marcus treated me even worse. Whenever he came over, he barked orders instead of greetings. If dinner wasn’t ready, he cursed at me. If the house wasn’t spotless, he shoved furniture across the room and blamed me. More than once, he grabbed my arm so hard it left bruises for days.
Rachel never stopped him. Sometimes she laughed. Sometimes she told me I deserved it because I was “too stubborn.”
They constantly demanded access to my money. They shoved papers in front of me, insisting I sign them without reading. When I refused, the insults became threats. When the threats stopped working, the violence began.
“I already told you,” I said through the pain. “The money isn’t available.”
Rachel’s face twisted with anger. “You mean you won’t give it to us.”
Marcus grabbed my arm. “Stop playing games, Mom.”
I pulled away. He punched me. Pain exploded through my side, and I collapsed onto one knee.
Rachel didn’t even flinch. She smiled. “Now tell us where the money is.”
I slowly looked up at the small black security camera above the pantry door. Neither of them noticed.
Years earlier, after a break-in, I installed a security system with cloud recording and silent emergency alerts. Just two weeks before selling the farm, I upgraded the entire system. I expected arguments. I never imagined my own children would assault me.
Marcus crouched beside me. “Bank name. Account number. Password.”
I wiped the blood from my chin and stayed silent.
Rachel kicked an apple across the floor. “She thinks she’s smarter than us.”
Marcus pulled a folded document from inside his jacket. A power of attorney. My signature had already been forged.
For the first time that morning... I smiled.
May you like
Marcus mistook it for fear. He leaned closer. “You have twenty minutes to cooperate.”
I looked him straight in the eyes. “No,” I whispered. “You have twenty minutes.”
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