“First part done,” she said. “Now we just have to let Marcus crumble.”

The final piece was legal.

I trusted very few people at that point, but my attorney, Richard Davenport, had been with my family long enough to see patterns that made him uneasy. When he met us in the safe apartment and saw Chloe standing there, very much alive, he went pale and had to sit down.

Once he read the lab reports and listened to the recordings, his expression changed from disbelief to something sharp and steady.

“They’ve scheduled a reading of your will already,” he said, almost in disbelief. “They insisted. I told them it was too soon. They said they wanted to honor your wishes as quickly as possible.”

“Let them,” I said.

He frowned.

“Use it,” I added. “As the stage.”

So we did.

Richard arranged the reading for the following Monday in the main library of the Ellington house, the room where my father once negotiated deals that shaped half the businesses in Vermont.

On paper, I was gone.

In reality, I was about to walk into my own memorial.

The Man They Thought They Buried

The library smelled like polished wood and old paper. It had always been my favorite room.

From the small antechamber behind the sliding shelves, I watched through a narrow gap as people filed in—board members, family friends, a few key staff. At the front of the room, Vanessa sat in a black dress that probably cost more than my first car. A veil covered half her face. Colby took a seat beside her, his jaw set in a careful line, his tie perfectly straight.

If you didn’t know what they had done, you might have felt sorry for them.

Richard stood by the long table, a stack of documents before him, a large screen mounted on the wall behind him.

“Thank you all for coming,” he began. “We’re here to review the last will and testament of Mr. Marcus Ellington.”

Vanessa dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. Colby stared straight ahead.

“As some of you know,” Richard continued, “Mr. Ellington asked to make a few updates recently. Given the circumstances, I felt it was my duty to honor that request.”

At the word “updates,” Vanessa’s head lifted slightly. Colby’s eyes narrowed for a moment.

“The revised document comes with a recorded message,” Richard said. “Mr. Ellington wanted a few things to be heard in his own voice.”

He pressed a button. The lights dimmed just enough for the screen to glow.