He paused, letting the silence stretch before dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
"You're the beneficiary of Ethan's accident insurance, aren't you?"
My heart skipped a beat.
In my past life, this conversation never happened. Back then, I had been hysterical, screaming for the police while they scrambled to subdue me and sanitize the crime scene. But now, faced with my eerie calm, Derek prioritized his greed.
I studied his face, inches from mine. The grief was gone, replaced by cold calculation.
"Yes," I said, nodding slowly. "I'm his mother. Who else would it be?"
Derek's eyes gleamed with immediate interest.
"The payout is estimated around eighty thousand dollars." The number rolled off his tongue with practiced ease. "I want you to promise me something. Once the money comes in, transfer it to Diana."
He spoke with sickening entitlement, as if the money were already his to allocate.
"She's found a school-district apartment she loves, but she's short on the down payment. We're family, Sarah. Helping each other is what we do." He leaned closer, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. "Besides... holding onto that money will only make you feel worse. Giving it to Diana could be seen as... accumulating good karma for the boy, don't you think?"
Mrs. Lawson chimed in on cue, her timing impeccable.
"Sarah, dear, the boy is gone, and Mom knows you're hurting. But you're still young. You and Derek will have another child. We have to look out for the living."
She even managed to squeeze out a few tears, acting the benevolent matriarch planning for my future.
Diana lifted her head, eyes rimmed with red, playing the reluctant beneficiary.
"Sister-in-law, I know I shouldn't bring this up right now, but the kids need a good school. It's a huge matter. Don't worry, I'll pay you back. I'll even write you an IOU..."
Around the room, the relatives nodded in solemn agreement. A chorus of vultures.
I looked at them, one by one.
The final piece snapped into place. No wonder they wanted to murder my son. It wasn't just hatred—it was insurance fraud. They killed my child to buy a condo.
Cold rage crashed against my ribs, but I forced it down, keeping my expression blank. I paused for a long moment, letting them sweat.
"Sure."
The room went still. They hadn't expected me to capitulate so easily.
"But I need to tell my mom first," I added. "She's the one who raised him. Now that he's... gone... if I don't explain it clearly, she'll make a scene. You know her temper."
Derek frowned. Mrs. Lawson opened her mouth to object, but Derek raised a hand to silence her. He studied me for a few seconds, weighing the risk.
Finally, he nodded.
"That's fair. Break the news gently. Don't let her get too worked up."
I pulled out my phone, opened WeChat, and started a video call.
Every pair of eyes fixed on me. The tension was suffocating.
Connect.
The screen lit up. My mother's face appeared, looking confused.
"Sarah? What's wrong? I thought you said you wouldn't be back until late?"
Behind her, on the living room carpet, a small figure sat with his back to the camera, engrossed in stacking building blocks.
"Mom," I said, my voice steady. "Put Ethan on. I want to say hi."
The small figure turned around. When he saw me on the screen, his face lit up with pure joy. Ethan grinned, his deep dimples popping as he shouted at the phone.
"Mom! When are you coming back? Grandma made dumplings! It's the pork and cabbage kind you like!"
His cheerful voice sliced through the living room like a blade.
The air instantly froze.
Derek, Diana, Mrs. Lawson, every relative present—their eyes widened. They looked at the living, breathing Ethan on my phone screen, then turned their heads toward the red figure lying lifeless in the snow outside.
