To steal my unborn baby, my mother-in-law cornered me with a forged notice of my husband’s death. “You have no one left to protect you,” she sneered, forcing custody papers into my hand. But as I backed away, the front door burst open, and a voice she never expected to hear shouted…
journals and a stack of legal documents. I opened the first journal. It was Victoria’s handwriting, neat and merciless.
October 4th: Clara’s isolation is proceeding perfectly. Sterling has agreed to back-date the psychiatric evaluations. Once the casualty notice is delivered, her resulting breakdown will provide all the legal precedent I need.
