What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger novel Chapter 8

I settled in a small town in Chicago instead of following my mother-in-law's "helpful" international escape plan.

A few days after arriving, one of my mother's former students Kira tracked me down.

Both my parents had been university professors—Dad, the brilliant artis, and Mom, whose architectural designs had won international awards.

This particular student had switched careers to become a private investigator.

When she saw me, she grabbed me in a fierce hug, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Jesus Christ, Yunifer, why the hell didn't you call me sooner? Your mom was like family to me—I won't let those bastards get away with this."

After letting her vent, I invited her inside and laid out my evidence—the videos, recordings, and documents I'd meticulously collected.

Her face hardened with each new revelation. When she finished, she slammed her fist on the table.

"Those sociopathic pieces of shit!" she exploded. "I actually thought when you married Hektor after prison that you'd finally caught a break!"

"Instead, that manipulative asshole orchestrated the whole damn thing."

"Framing you, destroying your career, driving your father to his grave, and now literally killing your mother? They belong in cages, not mansions."

When her righteous fury finally ebbed, I leaned forward. "I want my life back. Everything they stole from me. Can you help me?"

She nodded but looked troubled. "We still need evidence proving Hektor switched your paintings."

The situation was complicated—I had sold authentic masterpieces to collectors, but Hektor had created near-perfect forgeries and swapped them without anyone's knowledge.

The audio confession was damning, but in court, we needed either physical evidence or eyewitness testimony to guarantee justice.

Kira promised to find what we needed, but my compromised immune system had other plans.

I caught pneumonia and spent a week fighting for my life in the hospital.