Chapter 5 - The Shredded Truth
The industrial shredder continued its monotonous, mechanical chewing sound, spitting ribbons of confidential legal parchment into a overflowing plastic bin beside the mahogany desk. Officer Sarah Vance kept her service weapon firmly trained on Kenneth, her finger resting lightly against the trigger guard as the adrenaline surged through her veins.
"I said hands on your head, both of you! Do it now!" Sarah commanded, her voice ringing with authority through the dusty attic study.
Kenneth slowly raised his hands, a nervous, sweating grin plastered across his face. "Officer, there’s been a massive misunderstanding. This is a private family matter. My wife and children passed away earlier today, and we’re just... sorting through personal estate papers to cope with the grief—"
"Shut your mouth, Kenneth," Sarah snapped, keeping her eyes locked on him while tracking Beatrice out of the corner of her vision. "You're under arrest for conspiracy, poisoning, and attempted murder. Turn around and interlock your fingers behind your back."
Beatrice let out a sharp, mocking laugh that echoed off the slanted wooden beams of the attic ceiling. She slowly zipped up the canvas duffel bag filled with jewelry and gold, standing tall with the cold, unyielding arrogance of a woman who believed herself untouchable. "Attempted murder? Officer, you must be delusional. Three people were buried in Pinecrest Cemetery this afternoon with a signed death certificate from Dr. Evans and the county coroner's approval. There is no body, there is no crime, and there is certainly no victim."
"The victims are currently being rushed to Naperville General Hospital," Sarah retorted coldly, watching as Beatrice’s arrogant smile finally faltered for a fraction of a second at the news. "And your daughter Hannah is alive, Beatrice. She sent the text message that brought me straight to this room."
Before Beatrice could process the devastating revelation, the heavy front door of the house downstairs slammed open, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps pounding up the stairs. A second later, Detective Miller burst into the attic study, breathless and drenched in rain, with Hannah right behind him wrapped in a thermal foil blanket, her eyes burning with a righteous, terrifying fury.
Hannah stepped past Sarah and Miller, walking slowly into the center of the attic study until she stood face-to-face with the mother who had tried to bury her alive, and the husband who had watched her suffocate in the dark.
Kenneth shrank back against the desk, his face turning the color of ash as he stared at his wife like she was a ghost risen from the grave. "H-Hannah... how... how are you...?"
"Did you really think six feet of dirt could keep me from protecting my boys, Kenneth?" Hannah’s voice was as cold and sharp as broken glass, cutting through the dusty air of the room. She looked from her trembling husband to her smiling, unrepentant mother. "You thought you could poison us, fake our deaths, and steal the multi-million-dollar family trust my grandfather left me. But you made one fatal mistake."
Beatrice sneered, lifting her chin with aristocratic disdain. "And what is that, my foolish daughter?"
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Hannah reached out, snatching a handful of shredded parchment straight out of the plastic bin beside the desk, holding the ruined strips up high before letting them flutter down like confetti around her mother's feet.
"You didn't check the digital backup," Hannah whispered, stepping in close. "And the police already have the original deeds."
