Clara looked down at the documents, her tears blurring the text. “So the camping trips… .” “They were just a clumsy excuse to get out of the house for long stretches so I could build this case,” Tom said, a gentle, weary smile appearing on his face. “I knew how incredibly fragile your mental health was after your mother passed.
The mere mention of your uncle or the property used to throw you into panic attacks. I couldn’t bear to drag you into a stressful, agonizing legal war while you were still trying to heal. I wanted to protect you from the noise.” Tom sighed softly, leaning back. “Vanessa agreed to help, but she wanted to make sure everything was completely airtight before your uncle caught wind of it.
So I spent the last few months working with her legal team in secret, quietly building an ironclad forensic accounting case. We tracked every altered signature and backdated document. I thought I was protecting you by keeping you out of it, but my stupid alibi just ended up making you suffer anyway. I’m so sorry, Clara. I just wanted to hand you a finished victory, not a battlefield.”