“Any communication goes through me.”

“I’m not talking to you, Lydia,” Evan snapped, though his eyes looked exhausted, ringed with dark circles.

He wiped a drop of rain from his forehead, leaving a smudge of dirt near his hairline.

“Claire, if we go through with this, everyone loses,” he whispered, his hands trembling.

“We can settle this right now, between us.”

Judge Vance watched him over the rim of her glasses, her hand resting on a stack of yellow legal pads.

“Mr. Sterling, if you do not step back, I will have the deputy remove you,” the judge warned.

Evan took a shallow breath and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, though his eyes remained desperate.

“Just let me speak to my wife for one minute, Your Honor,” he said.

“It concerns the assets of the estate. We can save the court a great deal of time.”

I looked at his damp wool coat, smelling of wet asphalt and cheap cologne.

This was the man I had trusted with my family’s legacy, the man who had let Sloane Pierce into my grandfather’s sealed cellar.