she had.
Michael thought I was gone.
He thought the money was coming.
He thought the evidence was buried with me.
He thought there was no one left to contradict his story.
He was wrong.
Very wrong.
I looked down at my stomach.
My son moved beneath my hand.
A tiny kick.
A reminder.
We had survived.
And now Michael was going to learn exactly what it meant to make a mother fight for her child.
But before I could tell the officer what I wanted to do next, his phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed almost immediately.
“What?”
He listened.
Then looked at me.
“That’s impossible.”
“What happened?”
He lowered the phone slowly.
“The funeral home called.”
My heart began pounding.
“They found something inside the coffin.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“A woman’s wedding ring.”
My breath caught.
“That isn’t mine.”
The officer’s face went pale.
“That’s
