Chapter 4 - The Ghost
Ramirez flipped through the financial documents in the folder, whistling under his breath.
"Arthur Vance has been living in Mexico for the last decade, collecting a massive offshore pension," Ramirez said.
"Your mother filed the death certificate here in the States, collected the insurance, and they split the money."
"But they ran out of cash."
"They needed a new payout, a bigger score."
I gripped the edge of the desk, my knuckles turning completely white.
"They chose me," I whispered, the betrayal burning in my chest like acid.
"My own mother decided I was worth more dead than alive."
Dana pointed to a specific document at the bottom of the stack.
"It wasn't just your mother, Jessica."
"Kevin took out the two-million-dollar policy on you exactly three months before the accident."
"He planned this perfectly, waiting for a rainy night on a dark, isolated road."
I closed my eyes, remembering the glaring headlights in my rearview mirror.
It was my father's truck.
He had rammed me off the road, and Kevin had been waiting in the shadows to finish the job.
They only panicked and fled because Dana's car had appeared over the hill at the wrong moment.
They assumed my injuries would kill me anyway, so they rushed the fake memorial to claim the cash.
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"We have to stop them," I said, my voice turning cold and resolute.
"We have to get to the airport right now."
