“You have until midnight,” Evan said, tapping the phone screen against his palm.

“I want a signed statement from Lydia’s office by then.”

“Otherwise, the petition for conservatorship is filed.”

He turned toward the hallway, gesturing for his mother to follow him.

“Let’s go, Mother,” he said.

“We have a lot of paperwork to organize for the morning.”

Vivian stood up, her coat draping over her arm.

She gave me one last, cold look.

“You should have listened to me years ago, Claire,” she said.

“You were always too fragile for this family.”

Sloane remained by the sideboard, her face pale, her fingers still clutching her glass.

She looked at me, and for a second, I saw a flicker of genuine fear in her eyes.

She knew what Evan was doing was illegal.

She knew she was standing in the middle of a crime scene.

Lydia didn’t move until the heavy oak front door clicked shut behind them.

The sound of Evan’s car engine starting outside broke the silence of the street.

“Claire,” Lydia said, turning to me immediately.

“Are you alright?”