“We did what we had to do to survive, Grace,” she said.

“You knew Cassandra’s mother covered up the deaths of American soldiers,” I said, my voice rising.

“Do not use that tone with me in this house,” she hissed.

“Ethan,” I said, turning to my brother. “Did you know?”

Ethan looked devastated, his eyes wide as he looked from me to our mother, then to Cassandra.

Cassandra was watching my mother, a sudden, desperate hope flaring in her eyes.

“Mrs. Mercer is right,” Cassandra said, stepping closer to my mother. “This is family business. It stays in the family.”

Aaron let out a dry, hacking laugh.

“There is no family left,” Aaron said. “Just a bunch of shareholders.”

My mother took another step toward me, her hand outstretched.

“Give them to me, Grace,” she commanded.

Her eyes flickered to the fireplace again, the flames licking the soot-stained brick.

I stepped back, away from her and away from the table.

The paper felt heavy in my hands, a physical weight of fifteen years of lies.

Just then, the heavy front door of the estate creaked open.