My Mother-In-Law Stole My Life Insurance Policy, So I Faked My Death To Expose Her Fraud

"She murdered him, Miller!" I slammed the diary onto the dashboard of his car. "Calls it a Last Will and Testament, I call it a cry for help!"

Miller watched the traffic, his expression unreadable. "And a defense attorney will call it the ravings of a man on heavy medication. If we rush this, she walks away with the five million and you look like a desperate widow."

He pulled a small black case from the backseat. "We need a psychological trigger. We need to make her believe her sins are coming home."

That night, we broke into the estate. I knew the alarm code—she was too lazy to change it after kicking me out. While Miller installed micro-speakers in the vents of her master bedroom, I set up the surveillance equipment.

The house felt cold, stripped of warmth along with my belongings. In the living room, I saw the empty spots where my photos used to hang. She had erased me. Now, I was going to erase her sanity.

"Speakers are live," Miller whispered into his comms. "We’re officially a psychological thriller now."

We retreated to the van parked a block away. At 3:00 AM, I leaned into the microphone.

"Barbara..."

On the monitor, Barbara stirred in her silk sheets.

"I know what you did, Barbara..." I whispered, projecting my voice to sound hollow, distant.

She bolted upright, clutching her chest. Her eyes darted around the dark room. "Who's there?" she hissed, her voice trembling not with sorrow, but with terror. "Gary? Is that you?"

I smirked at the screen. "No, Barbara. It's the one you killed."