I escaped the compound before dawn, the heavy diaries clutched against my chest. The morning mist felt cold and unwelcome against my skin. I drove straight to the state police headquarters, my mind a chaotic swirl of revelations.
Detective Kincaid sat across from me in a stark, utilitarian interview room. He listened to my account in silence, his expression unreadable as I laid Mother Abigail’s diaries and Samuel’s autopsy reports on the table between us.
His team worked quickly. The forensic evidence from the diaries and the hidden ledgers confirmed everything: the massive financial fraud, the elaborate shell corporations, and the deliberate murder of Samuel by Mother Abigail herself. Ezekiel Gable, it turned out, was an accessory after the fact, actively working to cover up Abigail’s crimes and secure the estate for himself.
“The state prosecutors are preparing federal arrest warrants for Ezekiel and his inner council,” Kincaid said, his voice low. “The charges are extensive: financial fraud, tax evasion, accessory to murder, obstruction of justice.”
He paused, running a hand over his tired face. “The warrants will be executed this Sunday, during their morning service. It will be quiet, efficient. No theatrics.”
He looked at me, a question in his eyes. “Hannah, we understand this is difficult. You’ve uncovered the truth about your husband, exposed a vast criminal enterprise. Do you want to be present when law enforcement executes these warrants at the commune? Or would you prefer to remain safely in protective custody until it’s all over?”
The choice was mine. To see Ezekiel fall, or to simply let the system run its course without me.
What do you do?
Accompany Detective Kincaid and state troopers to witness the confrontation at the commune — read Chapter 9 to find out. Or, Remain in the quiet police conference room and let the legal system handle it without her — read Chapter 10 instead.
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