That night, my mother-in-law hid a rattlesnake under my pillow after discovering my $25 million life insurance policy. She smiled at me and said, “Go get some rest, I made your bed.” I didn’t argue. I took a blanket and gave the bedroom to my husband. Hours later, her desperate scream woke up the entire house… but the real secret was only beginning to come out.

I froze.

Heather Perkinson.

The name meant nothing to me.

But the rest did.

Child.

Start over.

Edgar.

My husband.

I wanted to burst through the door.

I wanted to grab Kristina.

I wanted to call the police.

Instead, I stayed completely still.

Twelve years in business had taught me something useful.

When someone reveals more than you expected, do not interrupt.

Let them keep talking.

Kristina did.

“You’ll finally do something useful for this family.”

She laughed softly.

“Twenty-five million.”

Then she left the room.

I moved backward.

Silently.

I went downstairs.

My hands shook so badly I nearly dropped my phone.

I opened the security app.

The bedroom camera.

Nothing.

Edgar hated indoor cameras.

We only had exterior security.

Of course.

I thought about calling 911 immediately.

Then stopped.

The snake was still upstairs.

That alone was enough.

But Kristina could claim it entered through an open door.

Arizona homes occasionally encountered snakes.

Rare.

But possible.

Her words were worse.

Yet I had no recording.

No witness.

No proof of Heather.

No proof Edgar knew anything.

And most terrifying of all, I did not know whether this was only Kristina’s plan.

Or Edgar’s too.

So I did something that still surprises me.

I went to the kitchen.

I filled a glass with water.

I waited.

Seven minutes later, Kristina came downstairs.

No gloves.

No cloth bag.

Hair perfectly arranged.

She smiled when she saw me.

“Nora.”

“You’re home early.”

“Migraine.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

She touched my arm.

I almost recoiled.

Instead, I stayed still.

“You look pale.”

“I feel terrible.”

“Go lie down.”

Her voice became sweet.