The quiet dining room in the Vance estate had always felt cold, but today the air felt like ice. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, lighting up the grand dining table, the polished oak floor, and the large American flag hanging proudly on the back wall. Maya sat near the end of the long table, staring at the thick Manila folder in her lap. For five years, ever since her biological mother passed away, Maya had believed that her stepmother Victoria was trying her best to keep the family together. But the papers inside the folder told a very different story about the family trust fund, the estate inheritance, and a secret bank account in the Caribbean.
Victoria: You were never supposed to look in that safe, Maya.
Maya: You forged my mother's signature on her last will.
Victoria: I built this family business alongside your father while you were away at college!
Maya: My mother owned half of this company before she died!
Victoria: She was weak, Maya, and she left everything to me to manage for you!
Maya stood up slowly, her hands trembling as she pulled out her smartphone from her pocket. Victoria's face changed from cold arrogance to pure panic when she realized what was happening. On the table stood a heavy crystal water pitcher. Without warning, Victoria grabbed the heavy pitcher and swung it toward Maya's hands to knock the phone away. The heavy crystal smashed against the corner of the wooden chair and shattered into dozens of sharp pieces. A jagged edge of broken glass grazed the side of Maya's neck, leaving a thin cut that immediately began to bleed down her collar.
Maya: You have lost your mind, Victoria.
Victoria: Give me that folder right now or you won't leave this room!
Maya: This folder belongs to my father and the legal authorities.
Victoria: Your father is five hundred miles away in Chicago!
Maya: He lands in ten minutes, Victoria.
Maya wiped a tear from her cheek with her left hand, while her right hand carefully tapped the screen of her phone. Blood trickled down her neck, staining the clean white fabric of her top, but she did not flinch. Victoria gasped loudly, leaning over the table with her palms slammed flat against the wood. Her blonde hair fell out of its neat bun as she screamed across the room. She looked wild, completely stripped of the high-society elegance she always showed to the neighbors and the local news reporters.
Victoria: PUT THE PHONE DOWN!
Maya: I am done listening to your lies.
Victoria: Who are you calling?
Maya: Dad... call 911 right now!
The phone speaker flared to life, and the deep, voice of David Vance filled the grand room. He had just turned off his phone after his flight landed, and his daughter's tearful voice made his heart freeze in his chest. Victoria backed away, her hands clutching her throat as she realized the call was already connected and speakerphone was turned on high volume.