I was unpacking my wedding china in the Georgetown house I’d bought with my late father’s inheritance when the previous owner, Mr. Reed, called out of the blue, his voice shaking so bad I could barely understand him, begging me to come to his apartment alone immediately and not to mention a word of it to my husband Daniel or his mother Margaret.

Claire’s blood ran cold.

She stood there for a second, her keys frozen in her hand, then forced herself to smile and wave back. She climbed into her car, starting the engine, her hands shaking so bad she could barely turn the key.

Margaret followed her all the way home.

Claire watched her in the rearview mirror, the blue sedan never more than two cars behind. She didn’t speed, didn’t try to lose her. She just drove, her mind racing.

How long had Margaret been following her? Had she seen her go into the law firm? Had she heard the conversation?

When Claire pulled into the driveway, Margaret pulled in right behind her. She got out of her car, adjusting her cardigan, her face blank, no sign of the woman who’d been stalking her for twenty minutes.

“Funny running into you downtown,” Margaret said, walking up the steps beside her. “I was just at the fabric store, picking out curtains for the living room. What were you doing at that big office building?”

Claire unlocked the front door, keeping her voice steady.

“Yoga class was canceled,” she said. “I had a meeting with a financial advisor. Dad’s old stocks—they’re finally worth something. I wanted to know when to sell.”

Margaret’s eyes lit up.

“Stocks?” she said. “How much are they worth?”

“Enough,” Claire said, walking into the kitchen. “Not enough to quit my job or anything, but enough to put a nice down payment on that Florida condo you and Daniel keep talking about.”

It was a lie, but it was the right one. Margaret had been talking about moving to Florida since the day they’d gotten engaged. A Florida condo was her end goal—her reward for all her plotting.

Margaret followed her into the kitchen, leaning against the counter.

“Florida would be lovely,” she said, her voice soft. “Warm weather, no snow, nice neighbors. Daniel deserves that, you know? He’s worked so hard his whole life. Never had anything nice handed to him.”

Claire pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, making a show of checking the seal before opening it. She took a sip, watching Margaret over the rim.

“He has me,” she said.

Margaret laughed, a sharp, bitter sound.

“You?” she said. “Honey, you’re a nice girl, but you’re not enough. You never were. Daniel needs someone who understands what it’s like to want more, to take what you’re owed. Not someone who’s happy living off her dead daddy’s money.”

The words hit Claire like a slap.

But she didn’t flinch. She just smiled, leaning against the counter opposite Margaret.

“Is that what you told Anna?” she asked.

The room went dead quiet.

Margaret’s face went white. For a second, Claire thought she might have a heart attack right there on the kitchen floor. Then the older woman recovered, her face hardening into a mask of cold rage.

“Who told you about Anna?” she whispered.

“Daniel,” Claire lied easily. “He told me last night. Said she was a mistake. Said she didn’t understand you the way I do.”

Margaret stared at her, searching her face for a lie. Claire held her gaze, her heart hammering, but her face calm.

Finally, Margaret laughed, a dry, humorless sound.

“Daniel never could keep a secret,” she said. “Fine. Yes. Anna. She was a sweet girl, too. Dumb as a box of rocks, but sweet. She had a little house, a little savings, just like you. Refused to sign it over to Daniel. Said it was hers, that she earned it.”

She stepped closer to Claire, her voice dropping to a hiss.

“Women like you? You think just because your daddy left you money, you deserve it? You didn’t earn it. You didn’t work for it. You just got lucky. Daniel? He deserves it. He’s my son. My blood. I worked three jobs to put him through college. I sacrificed everything for him. Why should some little trust fund princess get to live the life he was meant to have?”

Claire gripped the water bottle so hard the plastic crinkled.

“Is that why you killed her?” she asked.

Margaret didn’t deny it.

She just smiled, a cold, empty smile that made Claire’s skin crawl.

“Accidents happen,” she said. “Especially to women who don’t know when to keep their mouths shut and do what they’re told.”

She turned to leave the kitchen, then paused, looking back at Claire.

“Enjoy those stocks, dear,” she said. “And next time you go to a ‘financial advisor’? Make sure you’re not followed. You never know who might be listening.”

She walked out of the room, her slippers shuffling down the hallway.

Claire waited until she heard the TV turn on in the living room before sliding down the kitchen wall to the floor. She pulled the small body cam Maria had given her from under her shirt, pressing the stop button.

Her hands were shaking so bad she almost dropped it.

She had it.

Margaret had all but admitted to killing Anna. She’d admitted to the plot to steal Claire’s money. It was all on tape.

She pulled out her phone, texting Maria: Got it. She admitted to Anna. She knows I was at the law firm.

Maria texted back ten seconds later: Get out of that house. Now. I’m sending a car.

Claire stood up, her legs wobbly. She was about to walk to the front door when she heard Daniel’s car pull into the driveway.

She froze.

He was home early. He was never home early.

The front door opened.

“Claire?” Daniel called. “Mom called me. Said you’re acting strange. Said you’ve been asking questions about Anna.”