Framed By My Son: The Survivor's Story

The acrid smell of burning pine was a ghost I shouldn't remember, clinging to the air inside the Montana wilderness lodge.

One moment, I was plummeting from a cliff, the faces of vengeful families screaming above me, my son' s betrayal a fresh, gaping wound.

The next, Caleb' s panicked voice cut through the heat, "Mom! The fire' s out of control! What do we do?"

But this time, I saw past his feigned fear, a flicker of greed and excitement in his eyes – the same look he had when he delivered the doctored audio that sealed my fate.