Dan stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the red button.

“Is that…?” he whispered.

“Don’t answer it,” Juliette commanded, her chin lifting.

“It’s Marcus,” Dan said, looking up at his mother.

“I said, do not answer it, Daniel.”

The phone kept buzzing in his palm, a dull vibration against his skin.

I stepped out of the pantry, holding the black binder against my chest.

The plastic cover felt greasy under my thumb, coated in a fine layer of kitchen dust.

I walked over to the kitchen island and dropped it onto the granite counter.

The heavy thud echoed through the quiet kitchen, vibrating through the wood of the stools.

The phone finally stopped ringing, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

“Who is Marcus?” Sarah asked from the doorway, her eyes darting between her mother and Dan.

“Nobody,” Juliette said quickly.

“He was the lawyer who handled the cabin sale,” I said, my voice steady.

“The one your mother told everyone was lost in a bad market.”

Juliette’s eyes narrowed into thin, hostile slits.

“That is family business, Annie, and it has nothing to do with you.”