They wanted Bellweather House.
So I gave it to them.
They wanted the land.
So I let them claim it.
They wanted the inheritance.
So I let Flynn sign his name beneath every page.
And when they raised champagne glasses in my garden, celebrating the moment they thought I had lost everything, they never realized the truth.
The house was never the trap.
Their greed was.
And all I had done was close the door behind them.