But she had finally run out of room.

Because that same day, her own accountant, Gary Salgado, walked into the district attorney’s office with his lawyer and surrendered everything.

He’d realized what I think people like him always eventually realize about people like Agatha: that when it came apart, she would let him take the entire fall alone.

So he moved first. He handed over recorded conversations, doctored ledgers, the real bank trail.

And in one of those recordings, my mother-in-law’s own voice, unmistakable, said the thing that ended her:

If that girl ever tries to expose me, I’ll take her children.