It showed a hooded figure entering the garage late at night.
The image was grainy, but the movement, the posture, the unmistakable urgency in the way the person walked made my chest tighten.
I knew that walk.
I had grown up following it.
PART 4
I did not confront Brittany immediately, because the idea of accusing my own sister felt like crossing a line that could never be undone.
On the fifth day, she approached me near the vending machines and began talking about our parents’ will in a tone that felt disturbingly practical.
When I challenged her, she deflected, insisting she was only trying to be realistic, but her composure cracked when I pushed further.
At that moment, my phone buzzed with a message containing a screenshot of a real estate listing for my parents’ house, labeled as a prime opportunity for cash buyers.
The timing was impossible to ignore.
Miles later confirmed that the hardware store cashier remembered Brittany purchasing the items listed on the receipt.
That same evening, I overheard Brittany speaking with her fiancé, Evan Caldwell, in a quiet hallway.
“She is getting suspicious,” Brittany whispered.