“You don’t know anything about our family business, Evelyn,” he said.

“I know you stole from your own mother,” I said. “And I know you took my grandmother’s ring.”

Graham smirked, though his eyes remained anxious.

“That old piece of gold? It’s gone, Evelyn. You’ll never see it again.”

Behind the altar, near the vestry door, a shadow moved.

Sloane Mercer stepped into the dim light of the chapel.

She was wearing a thick trench coat, her blonde hair damp from the rain.

She wasn’t looking at Graham with the usual adoration.

She looked tired, her eyes red-rimmed and scanning the sanctuary with a sudden, cold realization.

“Is it true, Graham?” Sloane asked, her voice echoing in the quiet church.

Graham turned to her, his brow furrowing.

“What are you doing here, Sloane? I told you to wait in the car.”

“I asked you a question,” she said, stepping down the altar steps. “Did you actually lose the investment accounts in the audit?”

Graham’s face hardened.

“We’ll talk about this later,” he said.

“No,” Sloane said, looking at Julian, then at me. “We’ll talk about it now.”