“A meeting.”

“A final meeting right here in this chapel.”

“I will tell him I am ready to sign over my rights to the land to save the family from public shame.”

Marjorie laughed, a dry, rattling sound that echoed in the high rafters.

“He won’t believe you, Evelyn,” she said. “He knows you are too stubborn.”

“He will believe me if you tell him I am broken,” I said, staring directly into her cold eyes.

“And you will tell him.”

“Because if you don’t, Julian will leak these bank statements to the local press tonight.”

“By tomorrow morning, every member of your precious country club will know you are living on stolen charity money.”

Marjorie’s smile vanished.

The skin around her jaw tightened, her knuckles turning white as she clutched her handbag.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she whispered.

“Try me,” I said.

The silence in the chapel was heavy, broken only by the distant sound of the tide crashing against the harbor rocks outside.

The wind rattled the leaded glass of the high windows.

“I will call him,” Marjorie said, her voice dropping an octave.