The message from my mother stayed on my screen.

Your brother knew too.

I read it three times.

Jason.

My little brother.

The same Jason who had hugged me two days earlier and said, “Sis, this trip is going to bring everyone closer.”

I felt sick.

I called my lawyer.

She answered immediately.

“Andrea, don’t contact your family again.”

“Too late.”

“What happened?”

“My mother says Jason knew.”

There was silence.

Then she said:

“Actually, I already found something.”

My heart began pounding.

“What?”

“Your company account was accessed six times over the last month.”

“By whom?”

“Your stepfather’s computer.”

I stared at the airport floor.

“That’s impossible.”

“No. What’s impossible is what he was trying to do.”

She emailed me a document.

I opened it.

It was a draft agreement transferring controlling ownership of my company.

My name was at the bottom.

Except it wasn’t my signature.

It was a perfect copy.

My lawyer continued.

“They were planning to use your absence during the holiday to finalize the transfer.”

“And Jason?”

“He was listed as the new operations director.”

I laughed bitterly.

Jason had never managed anything in his life.

He once forgot to renew his driver’s license for six months.

Yet they wanted to put him in charge of my company.

Then another email arrived.

This time from my bank.

Suspicious transfer blocked.

Someone had attempted to move $480,000.

My entire emergency reserve.

I called the bank.

“Who authorized it?”

The representative gave me the name.

Jason Vaughn.

I closed my eyes.

The pieces finally fit.

The vacation wasn’t the real plan.

The canceled tickets weren’t the real betrayal.

They had wanted me away.

Distracted.

Unable to access my office.

Unable to answer calls.

Unable to stop them.

And Lucy and I had been removed because they didn’t want witnesses.

I looked at my daughter.

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we still going to see snow?”

I smiled.

“Absolutely.”

I booked the first available flight to Colorado.

But before we left the airport, my lawyer called again.

“Andrea?”

“Yes?”

“You should sit down.”

“Why?”

“We found another document.”

“What document?”

“A power of attorney.”

My stomach dropped.

“Whose name is on it?”

“Your mother’s.”

I couldn’t breathe.

They hadn’t just stolen my vacation.

They had been preparing to steal my life.

NEXT PART