CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY FIVE – A FATHER’S GRIEF

Richard Jones was a broken man. He paced the living room of the estate like a caged lion, eyes fever-bright and hands constantly running through his disheveled grey hair. "I should have had more security..." he rasped, the words beaten and worn from constant repetition. "Should have known they'd stop at nothing." Charlotte watched him with a heaviness in her heart, feeling years older than her tender age. "Daddy, please...you couldn't have known. None of us knew how far they'd go." He whirled on her, face flushed with rage and grief. "Those Montgomerys are a stain on humanity! They murdered your mother in cold blood, Charlotte! Using her kindness against her, poisoning her in her own gardens like a deranged third-world despot!" He raked a shaking hand through his hair again, pausing to gaze at the framed photos clustered on the mantle. His shoulders slumped as he traced the face of his beloved wife, caught forever in a sunnier time. "She used to say we had to meet darkness with li