It only took Anastasia a couple of questions to get the truth out of Malia.


    Turns out, Will really did have stomach cancer-just like she suspected. If she was right, he must''ve known he was living on borrowed time, which would exin why he went out of his way to make sure his family would be okay after he was gone.


    Dying from an illness never got anyone a medal, and the family wouldn''t get any support or recognition. But dying on a mission? That was dying for your country. The family would be honored survivors, get the benefits, and, more importantly, Will''s death would mean Jason owed them big time-he died taking a bullet for him, after all.


    Will spent hisst days making sure his family would get as much as he could give, even if it meant giving up his life.


    The Brown family had been living the good life these past few years, all thanks to Jason looking out for them.


    When Anastasia got to Monica''s salon, she yed the recording for her. Monica''s face turned red with anger. "Those Brown family moochers! I knew it. They''ve been using Jason from the start. He''s practically handed them every penny he''s made thesest few years."


    With Will gone, Jason had be their second son. The kind of "son" they could squeeze for every dime, all without a single ounce of guilt.


    Anastasia tucked her phone away. "If Jason had let Alisa trick him into marrying her, he''d have ended up ying scapegoat for life.”


    "Unbelievable," Monica fumed. "I''m telling Jason. That family is rotten. I can''t believe people can be that selfish.”


    "He has a right to know. I''m staying out of it, but let him know before he gets hurt again." Anastasia paused. “Has he made any progress on that serial killer case?"


    Monica groaned. "Still stuck. He''s got a suspect a fishmonger-but there''s no evidence. They can''t make a move without proof, and you know how it is: you have to catch the criminal in the act. It''s a pain."


    No evidence, no case. They hadn''t even found the murder weapon.


    Anastasia rubbed her temples. "Not much I can do to help, but Jason''s got a reputation as a top detective. He''ll figure something out."


    "My parents still want to meet Jason, but with this whole case, we haven''t had a chance to set anything up," Monica said, sighing. "So, what brings you here today, Ana? Not busy cozying up with Herman, working on your romance?"


    "My mom''s dating again."


    Monica nearly choked. "Wait-your mom? She''s dating?"


    Anastasia nodded. "Yep. I just met the guy. He''s sketchy. I had someone look into him, and I think my mom''s fallen for a scammer."


    Monica shot up, worried. "Ana, what are you waiting for? Tell your mom to dump him before it''s toote!"


    Anastasia watched Monica panic and smirked. "Funny, I remember saying those exact words to someone a few years back. But she didn''t listen."


    Monica fell silent. Yep, she was that ''someone.'' When a woman''s in love, even a herd of cattle can''t drag her away.


    "Ana, so what''s your n? Even if your mom won''t listen, you''ve got to try, right?"


    Anastasia calmly took a sip of water. "Already texted my dad. Told him to get back here and break it up."


    Monica''s face lit up. "Wow, Ana, you''re really turning into Herman a sly fox! Let your dad stir the pot, and your


    Stionship with your mom


    stays intact."


    Anastasiaughed. "Was that apliment, or are you calling me sneaky?"


    "Definitely apliment!" Monica grinned, handing her a bowl of fruit. "You deserve a treat for that."


    Anastasia helped herself. "By the


    way, did


    working


    shyouknow Alisaat


    the salon next door? Of all ces,


    out."


    picks yours. Keep an e


    Monica snorted. "Alisa? Please. What kind of trouble can she stir up? I''m not scared. Let her try me. Actually, I''m having dinner with Jason tonight. nning to expose that family''s whole scheme."


    Anastasia was about to reply when her phone buzzed.


    She nced at the screen-and her face instantly clouded with worry.