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

The satisfaction of the asset freeze was a warm fire in my chest, but I needed to see the ash. The county jail smelled of bleach and unwashed bodies, a stark contrast to the lavender-scented air of the Vance estate. When the guard buzzed me into the visitation room, the woman on the other side of the plexiglass was barely recognizable.

Barbara’s blonde bob was limp and greasy, dark roots clawing their way out. Without her heavy makeup and regular Botox, her face sagged like melted wax. She wore a shapeless orange jumpsuit instead of designer silk. When she saw me, she didn't sneer. She lunged, her handcuffs clattering against the metal table.

"You ungrateful little rat!" she screeched, though her voice cracked with panic. "tell them to release my funds! My lawyer walked out on me! Do you know what the food is like in here? I can't eat this slop!"

I sat down slowly, savoring the vibration of her terror. "I imagine the Prison Commissary is expensive, Barbara. Shame you don't have a dime to your name."

"I'm not guilty!" she hissed, desperate eyes darting around. "Drop the suit, Linda. We can make a deal. I have money hidden..."

"No deals," I whispered, leaning in until my breath fogged the glass. "You took Mark. You tried to take me. Now I'm taking the only thing you ever actually loved."

The guard stepped forward to signal the end of Visitation Rights. Barbara looked small, her perfectly manicured nails now chipped and jagged.

I stood up, adjusting my hood. "I hope you like the tea in here, Barbara. I hear the arsenic gives it a little kick." I turned my back as she started to scream.