For years, my stepfather kept my twin sister and me living in constant fear, as though our suffering was the only thing that satisfied him. One night, after beating us until we both lost consciousness, he carried us into the emergency room while my mother quietly told the doctors, “They just fell down the stairs.”

She continued reading until another document caught her attention.

“He filed paperwork declaring both of you mentally incompetent.”

I nodded.

“So he could become our permanent guardian.”

The detective turned another page and quietly read the estimated value of the trust.

Forty-two million dollars.

Neither she nor Dr. Cooper spoke for several seconds.

Finally, Detective Martin closed the laptop.

“This was never just child abuse.”

“And attempted fraud,” Dr. Cooper added.

A few moments later, another officer entered with the completed medical reports. Dr. Cooper carefully reviewed photographs documenting injuries in different stages of healing before handing the folder back to Detective Martin.

“These bruises weren’t caused tonight,” he explained. “Some are days old, others are weeks old, and several are already months into healing. This establishes a long-term pattern.”

Before anyone could respond, Edric’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“Faye! I know you can hear me!”

The shouting continued until it turned into another familiar laugh.