Chapter 6
I stared at the text message.
My blood ran cold.
Sloan was going to try to destroy the house.
If she couldn't have it, nobody could.
I called the police immediately.
I showed them the text.
They promised to increase patrols in the area.
But they said they couldn't have an officer here twenty-four hours a day.
Harrison and I took matters into our own hands.
We locked all the doors and windows.
We set up cameras around the property.
We stayed up all night.
Watching.
Waiting.
But nothing happened.
The next night was the same.
And the next.
After a week, we started to relax.
Maybe it had just been a threat.
Maybe Sloan was all talk.
Maybe she was finally giving up.
We were wrong.
One week after the text message, I woke up to the smell of smoke.
I jumped out of bed.
I ran to the window.
The garage was on fire.
Flames were shooting into the sky.
"Harrison!" I screamed.
He came running out of his room.
He saw the fire.
He called 911.
We ran outside.
The garage was fully engulfed.
And the fire was spreading to the main house.
To my home.
To Richard's home.
To everything we had.
The fire department arrived quickly.
They fought the fire for hours.
They saved the main house.
But the garage was gone.
And Richard's car.
And all the things we'd stored in there.
Including boxes of old photographs.
Family memories.
Things that could never be replaced.
The fire department determined it was arson.
Someone had poured gasoline around the garage.
And set it on fire.
And they found evidence.
A shoe print.
A Gucci shoe print.
Size seven.
Sloan's size.
And they found a receipt.
For a can of gasoline.
Purchased with Sloan's credit card.
Two hours before the fire.
Sloan was arrested that afternoon.
She was charged with arson.
Attempted murder.
Criminal threats.
And a long list of other charges.
She was denied bail.
This time, she would stay in jail.
For a very long time.
I stood in my backyard.
Looking at the remains of the garage.
At the charred remains of our things.
And I felt a strange mix of emotions.
Anger.
Sadness.
Relief.
It was over.
Really over.
Sloan was in jail.
She would never hurt us again.
Never threaten us again.
Never come near our home again.
But the damage had been done.
The garage was gone.
Memories were gone.
And the house would never be quite the same.
Harrison put his arm around me.
"We'll rebuild," he said. "We'll make it better than before."
I nodded.
We would.
Together.
The next few months were busy.
We rebuilt the garage.
We repaired the damage to the main house.
We installed a state-of-the-art security system.
We made the house safer.
Stronger.
Better.
And we healed.
Together.
Harrison got a new job.
A better one.
Working for a friend of Richard's.
He was good at it.
He was happy.
He was becoming the man he was always meant to be.
Strong.
Confident.
Kind.
My son was back.
And our relationship was better than ever.
We talked.
We laughed.
We worked together.
We healed together.
The legal proceedings against Sloan moved forward.
The evidence against her was overwhelming.
The recording.
The photographs.
The text messages.
The shoe print.
The gas receipt.
The testimony from witnesses.
Everything.
Her lawyer tried to plead her out.
To get her a reduced sentence.
But we refused.
We wanted justice.
And we got it.
Sloan was found guilty on all counts.
Arson.
Attempted murder.
Criminal threats.
Fraud.
Conspiracy.
Elder abuse.
And more.
The judge sentenced her to forty-five years in prison.
With no possibility of parole.
She would be in her seventies when she got out.
If she lived that long.
She would spend the rest of her life in prison.
Alone.
With nothing.
Just like she deserved.
The annulment was granted.
The marriage was declared void.
Sloan got nothing.
Not a dime.
Not the house.
Not the money.
Not anything.
It was over.
Really over.
Finally.
We had a party to celebrate.
A small one.
Just family and close friends.
Brenda was there.
David was there.
Thomas, Richard's old business partner, was there.
And someone else.
Someone I hadn't expected to see.
My sister.
Marge.
She lived in Florida.
We hadn't spoken in years.
Not since a stupid fight over something that didn't matter.
She'd seen the interview.
She'd seen everything that had happened.
And she'd come to make amends.
"I'm so sorry, Lorraine," she said. "For everything. For the fight. For not being here when you needed me. You're my sister. And I love you."
I hugged her.
"I love you too, Marge."
It was never too late to heal.
Never too late for family.
Never too late for love.
That night, as everyone was leaving, Marge pulled me aside.
"There's something I need to tell you," she said. "Something about Richard. Something he told me before he died. Something he wanted you to know. But he wanted me to wait until the time was right."
I stared at her.
"What is it?"
"He set up something for you," she said. "A safety net. In case anything ever happened. In case someone ever tried to take what's yours. He put aside some money. A lot of money. In a separate account. Only you can access it. He wanted me to tell you about it now. After everything you've been through. After you've proven how strong you are."
She handed me an envelope.
I opened it.
Inside was a bank statement.
And a letter from Richard.
The account balance was $2.8 million.
I stared at the number.
Speechless.
"Richard always said you were stronger than you knew," Marge said. "And he wanted to make sure you'd always be taken care of. No matter what."
I opened Richard's letter.
His handwriting.
Familiar.
Loving.
*My dearest Lorraine,*
*If you're reading this, you've been through something terrible. And you've survived it. Because you're the strongest person I know. Even when you don't think you are.*
*I put this money aside for you. Just in case. So you'd never have to worry about money. So you'd never have to sell the house. So you'd always be safe and secure.*
*Use it for whatever you want. Fix the house. Travel. Help the children. Give it away. Whatever makes you happy.*
*I love you, my darling. Always have. Always will.*
*Your Richard*
Tears ran down my face.
Even from the grave, Richard was taking care of me.
Protecting me.
Loving me.
I looked at my sister.
At my son.
At my home.
And I knew.
Everything was going to be okay.
More than okay.
Life was going to be beautiful.
But there was one more surprise waiting for me.
One that Richard had planned all along.
May you like
And it would change everything.
Again.
