She found the letter on the marble foyer floor, tucked beneath a vase of wilting lilies. The handwriting was hers. Or rather, a perfect copy of hers.
“Sara? What’s all the noise?”
“Now you have two choices,” Ivy said, her voice already thickening. “Let me die, and spend the rest of your life in prison for my murder. Or…” She swayed, clutching the banister. “Call an ambulance. Save me. And spend the rest of your life knowing I own you.” The stepmother 3 sara stone
