The room exploded into chaos—voices shouting, chairs scraping, faces draining of color. My son’s revelation cracked the Whitmore family open like a fault line.

And then Bernard roared, “Enough! Not another word!”

But Nathan wasn’t finished.

“Grandma killed Aunt Teresa,” he said—just as sirens wailed in the distance.

Chaos erupted the moment Nathan spoke. Guests stood up, arguing, demanding answers. Constance staggered backward, clutching a chair as if the room was spinning. Bernard tried to silence everyone, but the damage was already done.

I scooped Lily into my arms. Her tiny body trembled against me.

“We’re leaving,” I said to Grant. “Now.”