My new wife’s seven-year-old daughter burst into tears every time we were left alone together. Whenever I gently asked her what was wrong, she would only shake her head silently. My wife would just laugh it off and say, “She simply doesn’t like you.”

One million dollars.

Attached to it was a forged psychological evaluation claiming I suffered from severe depression and suicidal thoughts.

Clara wasn’t only planning to frame me.

She was planning to kill me.

And make it look like shame had driven me to suicide.

I contacted the insurance company’s fraud department immediately and reported everything.

But Clara moved first.

At three in the morning the next night, I woke to a smell.

Chemical.

Hot.

Wrong.