Her Billion-Dollar Betrayal

, Caleb. A

she sank onto our worn-out sofa

in some crypto thing, a friend said i

Years of my breaking my back on construction sites, all the ov

rms, stroking her hair

ice rough. "It's just money. We'll ma

chest, "I'm so sorry,

g her tighter. "We're a tea

fore the sun was even up, begging for any extra work he

tell her what happened. S

firm. At sixty-five, she was supp

don't have

use Grand is hiring cleaners. I

ther when she made up her mind. We were a family, and

ted less than t

eel beam into place, the city noise a d

ria Wright. There's been an incident. Y

work boots pounding against the pavement. The fore

ncy room, but I saw the aftermath first. A trail

her hands that made me sick. They were wrapped in thick bandag

d, my voice shaking with a

ttenhouse Grand. The hotel said she accidentally spilled a drink on a

st did

e police are on their way. They

y body. I had to get to that hotel. I had to find the person who did this. I left my mom w

orhood. I ignored the concierge and headed for the back, looking for the se

ndow in one of the

as there. M

ore. She was handing a bouquet to a man with slicked-back ha

ndred-dollar bill