Chapter 11 - THE STOLEN LIFE
“That’s impossible,” I said, leaning closer to the phone. “Mr. Keene, I’ve never seen a dime of that money. I’ve been working paycheck to paycheck my entire life!”
Mr. Keene sighed heavily. “I believe you, Claire. Because the account wasn't controlled by you. It was controlled by someone who had legal guardianship over you when your mother died.”
Adrian and I locked eyes.
My aunt. My mother’s sister, who had kicked me out the day I turned eighteen and forced me to drop out of college to support my little sister.
“She stole it,” I whispered, a wave of profound anger washing over me. “Elias was paying child support, and my aunt kept millions of dollars while letting us starve.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened. He hung up the phone. “Get your coat.”
“Where are we going?”
“To get back exactly what belongs to you.”
We drove to the wealthy suburbs of Naperville, stopping in front of a sprawling, gated estate. This was where my aunt had lived for the last ten years, claiming she had made a fortune in real estate.
Adrian didn't bother knocking. He kicked the front door open, the heavy wood crashing against the wall.
My aunt shrieked, dropping her wine glass as we marched into her luxurious living room.
“Claire! What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, her face pale with terror as she looked at Adrian.
I stepped forward, throwing the bank statements Mr. Keene had just emailed onto her pristine glass coffee table.
“You stole my life,” I said, my voice steady and cold. “You stole Elias’s money, and you let me scrub floors to survive.”
May you like
My aunt backed away, trembling. “I... I can explain.”
“You don't need to,” Adrian said, stepping beside me. “Because the police are already outside.”
