Then I looked directly at Logan.
“My plan was to leave it all to you.”
The realization struck him like a physical blow.
“I lived modestly so I could observe you,” I said. “I wanted to see how you handled what you already had.”
I pointed to the bank statement.
“This account was once a trust fund in your name.”
The word hung in the room.
“Was?” Chelsea repeated, her voice suddenly sharp.
“Yes,” Fiona confirmed without looking up from her notes. “Mr. Higgins dissolved the trust last Tuesday.”
Then she looked at them with a cold, professional smile.
“All funds have been transferred into private accounts and charitable foundations. You are no longer beneficiaries.”
Chelsea slowly turned toward Logan.
The truth ate through her expression.
She had thrown away over eight hundred thousand dollars because she didn’t want an old man in her kitchen.
