My son called me at 2:13 in the morning and whispered, “Mom, turn off all the lights, hide, and be careful around Dad.”
I obeyed without asking questions.
Minutes later, my husband of 14 years entered our bedroom with a folded sheet of paper and something in his hand that made my throat close.
I stayed silent… until I saw who those 24-million-dollar insurance policies were for.
“Mom, turn off the main breaker to the house. Hide. And please, don’t trust Dad.”
It was 2:13 in the morning when my son Toby’s voice left me frozen.
My name is Gwen, and I was alone in the house I’d inherited from my father in Cedar Hollow, Ohio — an old mansion I had personally restored when I was still working alongside him.
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