Chapter 3

The check from the Firefighter's Union arrived a week later.

It was made out to me, Gabrielle Chadwick, for one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I held it in my hands, the paper feeling heavier than it should. In my first life, I never saw this. Debra intercepted the mail, cashed it, and told me it was a "small token" that she would "manage" for me.

This time, it was mine.

I was sitting at the kitchen table when Debra came in, a cup of tea in her hand and a saccharine smile on her face.

"Anything interesting in the mail, dear?" she asked, her eyes darting to the envelope in my hand.

I folded the check and slid it into my pocket. "Just bills."

Her smile tightened. She knew. She must have been waiting for it.

Later that day, the ambush came. I was in the living room with Molly, reading her a book, when Debra, Barney, and Wesley entered. They stood before me like a tribunal.

"Gabrielle," Debra began, her voice oozing with false concern. "We need to talk about your father-in-law's health."

Barney let out a pained groan and shifted his weight, a performance he had perfected over the years. His back injury from the factory was real, but they milked it for all it was worth.

"His back is getting worse," Debra continued. "The doctors say he needs an experimental surgery. It's very expensive, but it's his only hope."

I stared at them, my face impassive. This was the same lie they used in my first life. The "experimental surgery" money had actually funded Wesley's first failed attempt at a "lifestyle brand," which consisted of him buying a fancy camera and taking pictures of himself in expensive clothes he later returned.

"How expensive?" I asked.

"One hundred and fifty thousand dollars," Wesley blurted out, unable to contain his eagerness.

Debra shot him a look. "It's a tragic coincidence, Gabrielle. But it's fate. The money Andrew left for us... it's just enough. It's like he's still taking care of his father from heaven."

I almost laughed. The sheer audacity was breathtaking.

"No," I said simply.

The air in the room thickened.

"What... what did you say?" Debra stammered.

"I said no," I repeated, looking each of them in the eye. "That money is for me and Molly to build a new life. It is not for a fake surgery to fund Wesley's ridiculous fantasies."

Wesley's face contorted with fury. "It's not a fantasy! It's a business!"

"And it's not your money!" I snapped back.

Debra's eyes welled with tears. The performance began anew. "Gabrielle, how can you be so cruel? After all we've done for you? This is for your father-in-law's life!"

She fell to her knees, a gesture of melodramatic despair. "Please, I'm begging you. Don't let your father-in-law suffer."

I just stared down at her, unmoved. "Get up, Debra. You're embarrassing yourself."

At that moment, the front door opened. Wesley, who had stormed out in a huff, was back. He saw his mother on her knees, crying, and me standing over her like a stone-hearted villain.

His face turned purple with rage. He strode across the room in two steps.

"You made my mother kneel?" he roared.

Before I could react, his hand flew through the air. The slap was sharp and loud, my head snapping to the side. A stinging pain exploded across my cheek.

Molly screamed.

But the sound was drowned out by another voice from the doorway.

"What in God's name is going on here?"

Captain Luis Roberts stood on the porch, a file of paperwork in his hand. His face was a mask of disbelief and horror. He had seen everything.

Wesley froze, his hand still raised, the color draining from his face.

I brought my hand to my cheek, the sting a distant, unimportant sensation. I looked at Captain Roberts, then at Wesley. Then I pulled out my phone.

"Yes, I'd like to report an assault," I said, my voice perfectly calm. "My brother-in-law, Wesley Chadwick, just struck me. Yes, I have a witness. The Fire Captain."