etectives arrived. Yellow tape was strung up around the graves. My relatives were being questioned o

ulders, playing the part of the traumatized victim. I kept Alex close to me, l

ep, unexplainable certainty that something was wrong. I was just a hysterical, grieving dau

that David Miller had paid him ten thousand dollars in cash to sign fraudulent death certificates and stage the funeral. He claimed

ut his financial ties to my father. The perfect, somber funeral

dow, a cold satisfaction settling in my

k to our house. The relatives had been told to leave. T

is asked, his voice gentle. He was young, but he had

hispered, looking at the ho

"We' re putting out an alert for your parents. David

, looking dow

nsation for what Henderson did. The town prosecutor is talking to him. Given the circumstances, the fr

he opening I w

think about money. I just went to work.

out that right now. My parents... they' re alive? But they left us?" I

and Alex need to be taken care of. You' re only eighteen. Henderson has

er, trying to hold things together for my little brother. The town was

e avoided me like the plague. The prosecutor, eager to make an

e downtown. The prosecutor, a stern-look

ntence," the prosecutor said, sliding a document across the tab

orked for years to save a fraction of that for Al

y eyes wide. "But... what if my parents

said firmly. "For the damages you' ve suffered. What you

t out. David and Mary, wherever they were hiding, would hear about it. They would know that their "grieving daughter" was not only a pr

ed the

n my bank accou

at the bank statement. Fifty thousand do

ing but debt and a child to raise. They thought I would be crushed under the we

likely been contacted by Henderson or one of the other co-conspirators. They had probab

la

was planting a bomb. And I

planning the next step. The

tement again and smiled,

I whispered to the empty room. "You' re