“You set the fire in Aspen. You made me ruin my own marriage.”

Gwendolyn laughed, sharp and bitter. “Your marriage? You treated that woman like an unpaid servant for six years. Don’t blame me for what you wanted to believe.”

He raised a hand, then stopped — afraid of cameras, or simply out of pride to defend. “Get out of my house.”

“Your house?” she scoffed. “Wake up. The creditors are seizing all of it.”

She tried to push past him toward the doors, but two federal officers stepped into the foyer alongside my brother Ronald, who held a warrant.

“Gwendolyn Fairchild,” Ronald said calmly, “you’re under arrest for commercial fraud, grand larceny, document forgery, and arson connected to the Aspen fire.”