My mother-in-law handed me a hundred thousand doll…
Wreckage.
My heart stopped. I pulled out my phone and checked my original flight details. It was a commercial flight to Paris, but it had a connecting leg through a smaller regional airline. Was they going to sabotage a commercial airliner? No, that was too big, too public. Then it hit me. My mother-in-law had mentioned a “special gift” awaiting me at my layover—a private charter flight arranged through one of her business associates to take me directly to a secluded resort in the French countryside.
They weren’t just going to fake an accident. They had arranged a private plane that was meant to go down over the Atlantic, ensuring my body would never be recovered, leaving them to claim the forged abandonment papers and inherit everything.
A cold sweat broke out across my skin. If I hadn’t turned back, I would be boarding a flying coffin tomorrow morning.
“You bastards,” I whispered, the tears finally coming, hot and furious. Five years of my life. Five years of cooking his meals, supporting his business, enduring his mother’s cold glares, and loving him through his “work stress.” And it was all a lie. He had been sleeping with another woman, getting her pregnant, and plotting my murder with his mother.
I spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, the cash lined up on the nightstand like soldiers waiting for orders. I didn’t sleep a wink. By the time the pale morning light filtered through the grimy window, the sadness had hardened into a cold, calculating rage.
They wanted a ghost? I would give them one. But this ghost was going to haunt them until they lost everything.
At 9:00 AM, the time my original flight was scheduled to land at its first layover, I went to a nearby electronics store. I bought a burner phone and a cheap laptop, paying entirely in cash.
