She had documented everything: the missing trust money, Yates’s payments, threatened witnesses, and even messages suggesting Malcolm had arranged for someone to interfere with her vehicle, although she admitted she lacked enough evidence then to know exactly what would happen.
Malcolm arrived at the estate that night pretending concern after hearing the twins had worsened, walking directly toward me with his familiar sympathetic expression until he noticed Elena standing beside Prescott and stopped so suddenly that the truth appeared on his face before anyone spoke.
He tried to run, but he never reached the front doors, and I did not touch him because by then I understood something Genevieve had apparently understood before me: men like Malcolm expected violence because violence could be denied, while evidence could follow them forever.
Investigators later determined that Genevieve’s collision had not been accidental, and Malcolm was eventually charged in connection with financial crimes, evidence tampering, conspiracy surrounding her death, and actions that had deliberately obstructed information essential to my children’s medical care.
Dr.
Yates surrendered his license and cooperated with prosecutors, but none of those consequences mattered during the next three weeks because Jonah and Blythe remained fragile, their immune systems struggling while I slept in a chair between them every night.
