“This memorial fund was created to help children receive medical treatment their families cannot afford,” I began. “Today, I must explain why its two directors are being removed.”
Daniel’s expression hardened.
“Emma, stop.”
I pressed play.
His recorded voice came through the speakers.
“When Sofia’s next fundraiser clears, move twenty thousand into the vendor account. Emma never checks anything unless we tell her to.”
Then Vanessa’s laughter followed.
“She’ll repair it. She always repairs everything.”
I displayed the false invoices, resort expenses, flight charges, and a photograph the hotel had posted online two days earlier.
It showed Daniel and Vanessa aboard a catamaran, raising glasses of champagne while my calls went unanswered.
Vanessa tore off her sunglasses.
“You vindictive woman! My daughter is dead!”
“Yes,” I replied, my voice finally breaking. “And while she was dying, you were spending money donated to help sick children.”
She struck me across the face.
