They left me alone with my son’s mother, who hadn’t regained consciousness since the accident, and as soon as their ‘vacation’ flight took off, her eyes broadened and she clutched my wrist. She whispered four words that made me lock the door and check my medication log: ‘Don’t trust my son.’ I looked down the hallway, listening to the steady beeping of the monitor… and realized they weren’t on vacation at all.

My son called me on a Tuesday morning and asked me to watch over his mother-in-law, who’d been in a coma for six months. The moment he and his wife left the house, she opened her eyes and whispered words that made my blood run cold.

“They’re trying to kill me,” she said, “and you’re next.”

I’m glad to have you here. Follow my story until the end and comment the city you’re watching from so I can see how far my story has reached.

I never imagined that, at sixty-four years old, I’d discover my only son was planning to murder me for my inheritance. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.

The phone rang while I was packing for my Arizona trip. I’d been looking forward to this vacation for months. My friend Carol and I had booked a cozy Airbnb near Sedona, planning to hike and finally finish that photography class we’d started online.

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