“Did the doctors find the second injector?” Michael asked.

Detective Collins looked at me.

I had never told my brother that both injectors were missing.

“No,” I said carefully. “Why?”

Michael hesitated.

“The blue one probably fell under the table.”

My stomach tightened.

Only someone who had handled the injectors knew one had a blue cap.

“Where are you, Michael?”

He ended the call.

Detective Collins opened the papers found in Evelyn’s briefcase.

Bank records showed that nearly six hundred thousand dollars had been taken from Lily’s trust and sent to a company owned by Michael.

My own brother had been stealing from my daughter while living in our home.

Then Lily whispered:

“Uncle Michael came into my room last night. He wanted Mom’s watch.”

The watch contained Evelyn’s recorded confession.

Moments later, hospital security reported that Michael’s car had entered the parking garage.

“He doesn’t know Evelyn was arrested,” Detective Collins said.

The door opened.

Michael stepped inside carrying a medical bag.

He froze when he saw the police.

The missing injector fell from the bag.

“I came to replace it,” he admitted.

A nurse scanned the label.

“This is not allergy medication,” she said. “It contains a powerful sedative.”

Then she read the name on the prescription.

Anna Hart.

My late wife.

The prescription had been filled two days before she died.

I stared at Michael.

“You said Anna died from a heart condition.”

His face went pale.

“I didn’t know Evelyn would give her that much.”

The room became silent.

Michael had just admitted that my wife’s death was not an accident.

And Evelyn’s plan to steal Lily’s trust had begun two years before the luncheon.