Chapter 7 - The True Heir of Pendelton
The heavy double doors of Room 304 swung open wide.
Maeve Higgins walked inside, leaning heavily on the arm of a female police officer. The worn gray shawl was dusty, and her hands shook slightly, but her eyes were bright, clear, and full of an unyielding fire. Behind her, another officer carried a battered leather briefcase secured with a heavy metal clasp.
Vivienne let out a choked sob and reached out her trembling hand. "Maeve..."
"I'm here, my sweet girl. I'm right here," Maeve whispered, rushing past the cluster of stunned relatives to grip Vivienne's fingers tightly. She looked back at me, her expression softening with profound sorrow. "I tried to warn you at the gates, Conrad. I tried to tell you that the people you trusted most were the ones who buried your wife alive."
I couldn't look away from her. The resemblance between Vivienne and Maeve, stripped of the polished corporate lifestyle and seen through the lens of raw truth, was unmistakable—the shape of the jaw, the brilliant blue of the eyes, the stubborn resilience in the set of the mouth.
"What is in that briefcase?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Detective Miller stepped forward, opening the metal clasps with a sharp click. He pulled out a thick stack of yellowed paper, legal documents, bank statements dating back over two decades, and a set of formal adoption papers bearing official county seals.
"These documents," Detective Miller explained, scanning the top page, "detail the corporate takeover of Pendelton Enterprises back when Conrad’s father passed away. But more importantly, they outline the true parentage of Vivienne Higgins—and the suspicious circumstances surrounding the sudden death of her original adoptive parents in a vehicular accident twenty-two years ago."
Florence’s face finally lost its color. The aristocratic composure fractured, replaced by a cold, venomous fury.
"Lies! All of it forged by an opportunist looking for a payday!" Florence hissed, stepping forward with her cane raised. "Conrad, order these officers out of this room right now! We are the Pendelton family!"
"No, Florence," I said, turning to face my mother with a coldness I had never felt before in my life. "The Pendelton family died today in that cemetery. What’s left in this room are criminals."
Maeve looked up from Vivienne’s bedside, holding out a faded photograph.
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"Your mother didn't just orchestrate your wife's fake death, Conrad," Maeve said softly. "She orchestrated the adoption twenty-two years ago to hide the fact that Vivienne was the legal heir to her grandfather's entire estate—an estate that Florence stole, section by section, by forging signatures and eliminating anyone who got in her way."
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