“Is that your daughter?” I asked.

Vance stiffened, then let go of the curtain. “Yes. That’s Sarah. And my grandson, Toby.”

“Where are they?” I asked.

“They live in Quincy,” Vance said, his voice tight. “At least, they did.”

He walked over to the kitchen table and sat down across from me.

His phone lay face up on the table between us.

He kept glancing at the screen, his fingers twitching.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Clara,” Vance said softly.

“You told me to,” I reminded him. “You said you were loyal to my mother.”

“I was,” he said. “But your mother is dead.”

He rubbed his face with both hands, looking incredibly old.

“Leo is a monster, Clara,” he whispered. “He doesn’t just kill his enemies. He kills their families.”

A chill ran down my spine, colder than the rain outside.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

Vance didn’t answer.

He picked up his phone and slid it into his pocket.

“I need to make sure the back door is secure,” he said, standing up.

He walked out of the kitchen, his boots heavy on the linoleum.