My family stole my 25th birthday and called me “the strong one,” but years later they came back for the million-dollar boatyard I built without them.

Karen Pruitt's findings arrived three days later.

A thick folder. A USB drive. And a smile on her face that told me everything.

"Bryce Coleman," she said, spreading documents across my kitchen table. "Thirty-eight. Self-made. At least, that's the story. But look here."

She pointed to a lawsuit from three years ago. Coleman Developments vs. The Harborview Trust.

"Coleman tried to buy waterfront property in Harborview. The owner was an elderly widow. Coleman got her to sign a purchase agreement through a power of attorney that turned out to be fraudulent. The family sued. Coleman settled out of court. Paid them off. But the pattern — Merit, the pattern is identical."

My heart was racing. "Elderly owner. Suspicious power of attorney. Waterfront property. That's exactly what's happening here."

"Exactly. And there's more." She pulled out another document. "Coleman has a history of environmental violations at his construction sites. Illegal dumping. Toxic runoff. He's been fined six times. He knows exactly how to use environmental regulations to destroy a property's value."

"Like someone did to my yard."

"Like someone did to your yard." Karen leaned forward. "Merit, if we can prove Coleman was involved in the dumping — not just Sybil, not just Paige, but Coleman himself — we don't just stop the sale. We put him away for a long time."

"How? Paige said Sybil paid her. She didn't mention Coleman."

"Because Paige doesn't know the full picture. But someone does." Karen looked at me. "Your sister. Fallon. She's living with him. She's traveling with him. If Coleman planned this, Fallon knows something. Maybe everything."

I shook my head. "Fallon would never testify against him. She's in too deep. And she'd never help me."

"Maybe. But people surprise you. Especially when they realize they're being used."

I didn't sleep that night.

I thought about Fallon. About the little sister who'd followed me around when we were kids. Who used to climb into my bed after nightmares. Who my mother had turned into a weapon.

Had Fallon really become like Sybil? Or was she just another person Sybil was using?

The next morning, I did something Karen told me not to.

I called Fallon.

She answered on the fourth ring. "Merit?"

"Fallon. We need to talk. In person. Just us. No Bryce. No Mom."

Silence. Then: "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Fallon. Please. You're my sister. Whatever's happening between us, you're still my sister."

Her voice cracked. "Merit, I can't. Bryce said—"

"Fallon. What did Bryce say?"

She hung up.

I stared at the phone. But I'd heard it. The fear in her voice. The way she cut herself off.

Fallon was scared. Of Bryce.

I called Karen. "We need to move faster. Fallon's in trouble. I think Bryce is controlling her."

Karen was quiet. "Then we need to get to her before he does. Merit, I'm going to ask the court to expedite the POA hearing. But we need more. We need something that connects Coleman directly to the sabotage."

Eli Ward found it.

He'd been testing the soil samples. The solvent was a specific industrial grade — manufactured by a company in Grand Rapids. Eli traced the lot number. The containers found behind my shed came from a batch sold to a single buyer.

Coleman Developments.

I held the paperwork in my hands. The proof. Bryce Coleman hadn't just benefited from the sabotage. He'd supplied the chemicals.

"We've got him," I said.

Eli nodded. But his face was serious. "Merit, this is going to get ugly. When Coleman realizes we have this, he'll run. Or he'll do something desperate. We need to go to the police. Now."

We did.

Detective Hart took the evidence. She obtained a warrant. And the next morning, the police raided Coleman Developments.

They found emails. Text messages. Bank records.

Including a transfer of five thousand dollars from Coleman's account to Sybil Callahan's. And a text from Sybil to Paige: "Do it tonight. She'll be at the supplier."

My mother had known my schedule. She'd known I'd be away. She'd planned it all.

And Bryce Coleman had paid for it.

Arrest warrants were issued. For Sybil. For Paige. For Bryce Coleman.