They Poisoned My Father, So I Bankrupted Their Billion-Dollar Empire

Chapter 30: The New Foundation

Six Months Later.

The farmhouse didn't look like a haunted relic anymore. It was freshly painted white, the porch repaired, the windows gleaming.

Jack walked up the stairs to the attic. It was no longer a dusty tomb. It was a bright, airy office. The sunlight hit the polished floorboards—no dust motes this time.

A brass plaque on the wall read: The Thomas Miller Foundation for Occupational Safety.

"Jack?"

He turned. His mother was standing in the doorway. She looked healthier, color returned to her cheeks. The trust fund from the settlement ensured she would have the best care for the rest of her life.

"Elena is here," she said. "She brought the paperwork for the charity donation tax write-offs."

"I'll be right down," Jack said.

He knelt by the spot where he had found the journal. He pried up the loose floorboard one last time.

Underneath, he placed a new photo. It was him and his dad, fishing on the lake. On the back, Jack had written: Built something better.

He nailed the board shut. He stood up, took one last look at the sunbeam, and walked downstairs to start his new life.