Chapter 4: House of Ashes and Debt

"Mom, what’s wrong? Didn’t you say David had a clear conscience? I’d want the whole world to know about his heroism. Aren’t you proud?"

My mother-in-law was furious. "You’re more poisonous than a snake! Get over here with a lawyer and let’s split the inheritance. From now on, you’re out of the Sutton family!"

Perfect. I’d only worried they’d keep coming after my money.

But, of course, there was a catch—they said that since my daughter’s last name was Sutton, she had to stay with them. Otherwise, I’d lose my inheritance and have to walk away with nothing.

I didn’t even hesitate. I knew exactly what they were trying to pull.

All David cared about in his new life was the cash—his old reputation was worthless. When my in-laws got his stuff, they called me, absolutely losing it:

"Where’s my son’s money? Where are his bank cards?"

I smiled, logged into the joint account, and changed every password. "What money, Dad? All the accounts are closed. Anything left is in my name. If there’s a secret stash, I wouldn’t know."

The phone practically exploded with a bang, then a string of curses.

"If David had a secret stash, he never told me! Call the cops if you want."

After draining and locking every account, I hung up, still grinning to myself.

When David Sutton finally managed to dig up the account numbers and passwords, he was in for a treat. Every account closed, flagged for fraud, or reported compromised. Not a dime left for him.

In his last life, his first move was to team up with his family and drain everything—savings, stocks, anything with value. I’d trusted him with my investments, and he’d quietly bled me dry. When my daughter needed money in the ICU, my stock funds were gone. I never understood how someone else got my passwords…

But now, with a second chance, I wasn’t letting him get a single penny.

My in-laws lost their minds over the frozen accounts. Within days, I got a call from the hospital—my father-in-law had collapsed.

Turns out, he had leukemia.

It hit much sooner than last time—probably the stress.

My mother-in-law sighed at his bedside. "That’s just how life goes. He’s only in his sixties. I’ll sell the house if I have to, just to save him."

Then she laid it on thick: "We’re old and don’t have many years left. Your house is just sitting empty. Let us move in so we can see our granddaughter more. That’s not too much to ask, right?"

I raised an eyebrow. So that was their angle. Figures.

"But I’m staying with my best friend, and the house has tenants…"

"Have them move out. That house is your home base—where else would you and your daughter go?"

Soon enough, my in-laws showed up with giant suitcases, making themselves at home in my daughter’s room since the master bedroom tenant wasn’t leaving until the end of the month.

This time, they strutted around, faces bright, not looking like people who’d just lost a son or gotten a death sentence.

I smiled. "Make yourselves comfortable."

Then I dug out David Sutton’s memorial photo, a candle, and incense, and set them up in the children’s room. The black-and-white photo stared straight at the bed, the red lamp burned day and night, incense always lit, leaving my in-laws dumbstruck.

"The house was going to be rented, so I never set up a proper memorial. Now that you’re here, David can visit you often."

Lighting the incense, I grinned wider. My mother-in-law’s face turned a sickly green.

"You must be thrilled to have the whole family back together. Tell David not to rush—he’ll see you again in a few years!"

She shot daggers at me, clearly plotting, but only managed a sneer. "We’re old and can’t outsmart you young folks. Is it too much to ask for a place to stay?"

Not at all—I’ll make sure you get exactly what you want.

I even suggested hiring help and called Jessica Harper over. After all, they couldn’t wait to be reunited.

I offered Jessica $700 a month as a live-in maid, sleeping in the storage room. She’d already been fired by my best friend—serves her right.

"Maggie, don’t bring up money. David saved my life—I’ll take care of his parents for free."

"Perfect, then I won’t pay you. Wouldn’t want to insult your feelings."

Her smile froze. She was just being polite—I wasn’t.