“Marcus, if you cannot return the deposit, Wexler Stone will sue for breach of contract,” she said.

“They will do more than sue,” Warren added, his voice hollow.

Warren looked up from his hands, his face appearing older than his years.

“The contract has a severe liquidated damages clause,” Warren said.

“What does that mean?” Aunt Caroline asked, her voice rising.

“It means we would owe them double the deposit,” I said.

“Six hundred thousand dollars,” Marcus corrected.

He walked back to the table and tapped his fingers against the wood.

“And since the estate is already leveraged to the hilt, the bank will foreclose immediately.”

“We will lose the house,” Aunt Caroline said, burying her face in her hands.

“We will lose everything,” Marcus said.

“The house, the land, the family name. Everything goes to auction.”

The room grew so silent I could hear the antique clock ticking on the mantelpiece.

Outside, a branch scraped against the windowpane like a fingernail.

“You did this on purpose,” I said, stepping closer to him.

“You forced our hands so we would have no choice but to let them dig up the cemetery.”