Chapter 2

The trooper, a kind man named Officer Miller, patted my shoulder awkwardly. "We' ll do everything we can to help you through this, Ms. Johns."

I knew he meant it. He was a good man caught in a web of lies.

The next day, the insurance agent showed up. His name was Carl, a smarmy man with a cheap suit and sweat stains under his arms. He was the one Barney and Debra had paid to manage the fallout, to make sure their "deaths" were processed quickly and without suspicion. In my first life, he' d given me a check for a few thousand dollars, a pittance meant to shut me up and send me on my way.

He sat on my lumpy couch, his briefcase open on his lap. "A terrible, terrible tragedy," he said, his voice oozing fake sympathy. "We at the insurance company want to make this as painless as possible for you. We' re prepared to offer a settlement to cover the funeral expenses and help you get back on your feet."

He slid a piece of paper across the coffee table. The number was pathetic.

I looked at him, my eyes wide with what he would assume was grief-stricken confusion. Then I let my face crumble.

"Painless?" I shrieked, the sound high and hysterical. I snatched the paper and ripped it in half. "You think this is painless? My parents are dead! I' m all alone! I have a baby sister to raise!"

I jumped to my feet, pacing the small living room like a caged animal. "This is negligence! The rental company gave them a faulty car! The county failed to maintain that road! I' m an orphan! A helpless orphan with a baby!"

Carl' s slick composure started to crack. He wasn' t prepared for a fight. He was prepared for a timid, grieving girl.

"Now, Ms. Johns, let' s be reasonable..."

"Reasonable?" I spun on him, my voice rising. "I' ll tell you what' s reasonable! I' m going to the local news! I' ll tell every reporter in this state how a big, powerful car company and a lazy county government killed my parents and left their two daughters to starve!"

I saw the flash of panic in his eyes. This was not in the script Barney and Debra had paid for. A public scandal was the last thing they wanted. Their plan required a quiet, clean disappearance.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice tight.

I stopped pacing and stared at him, my eyes cold and hard. The mask of the grieving daughter fell away for just a second.

"Fifty thousand dollars," I said, the number tasting like victory on my tongue. "It' s the exact amount of seed money they left for me last time, the money I was supposed to use to raise their real daughter. This time, I' m taking it for myself."

Of course, I didn' t say that last part out loud.

To Carl, I just said, "Fifty thousand. A small price to pay to avoid a very messy, very public lawsuit that will drag your clients' names-and the rental company' s-through the mud for years."

He swallowed hard, looking from me to the baby carrier in the corner, where Gabrielle was sleeping peacefully. He saw a public relations nightmare.

"I' ll have to make a call," he stammered.

"You do that," I said, sitting back down. "I' ll be waiting."

I knew they would pay. They had to. It was the first brick in the foundation of my revenge.