Phoebe's POV
I stood there frozen, shock rippling through every fiber of my being.
The silence stretched endlessly before I managed to whisper, "Malcolm, did Dave actually provide proof?"
I couldn't condemn Grandpa based on hearsay alone—not without concrete evidence.
When Grandpa was alive, his singular obsession had been tracking down Mom's killer.
Even as death approached, he'd made my uncles swear to find the murderer and make them pay for what they'd done to Mom.
He'd devoted the second half of his life to this relentless hunt for Mom's killer.
Every day, he'd slip into his study to stare at Mom's photographs, lost in memories that seemed to consume him.
And he'd moved heaven and earth to shield me from harm—all because I was Mom's only child.
He was the one who'd showered me with endless love, wrapped me in his protection, and became my guiding light on this path toward justice.
