I stayed in the windowless conference room in Harrisburg, the fluorescent lights humming overhead. A lukewarm cup of black coffee sat untouched on the table before me. I stared at its surface, watching the faint ripples.
Two hours later, Detective Kincaid returned. He placed a thick manila folder on the table, the sound echoing in the silent room.
“Ezekiel Gable was arrested without resistance,” he confirmed. His voice was steady, professional. “He’s been transported to federal detention awaiting arraignment.”
He slid a document across the table. “The state attorney general has filed asset forfeiture papers on the entire $14 million estate. The land, the properties, the bank accounts – all of it. The Covenant corporation has been dissolved by court order.”
I nodded, my throat tight. The end of an era.
“There’s one more thing, Hannah,” Kincaid said, his gaze softening slightly. “Because the money was derived from criminal enterprise, the state will place it in a restitution fund. For former cult victims.”
He hesitated. “That means… you won’t inherit any of it.”
My fingers tightened around the ceramic mug. No millions. No sudden fortune. Just the quiet satisfaction that the system, finally, had worked. Abigail’s final, cruel trick—her financial trap designed to make me a scapegoat—had been neutralized by the very law she sought to exploit.
I accepted the outcome in silence. There was no bitterness, only a strange sense of quiet emptiness.
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