The entire ballroom went completely silent, the only sound being the quiet hum of the air conditioning.

“What are you talking about?” Richard asked, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register.

“We are talking about the death of Margaret Bennett,” Gabriel said.

I felt my breath catch in my throat, the name of my mother echoing in the vast space of the ballroom.

“My mother died of a stroke,” Vanessa said, her voice shaking as she gripped her bridal bouquet. “How dare you bring her up today?”

“Your mother didn’t die of natural causes, Vanessa,” Gabriel said quietly.

He looked directly at my father, who had gone completely rigid.

“And your father spent the last five years paying off the medical examiner to keep it quiet,” Gabriel added.

Richard’s face drained of color, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides.

“That is a lie,” Richard said, his voice cracking. “Margaret was sick. She died in her bed.”

“We have the financial records showing monthly transfers to Dr. Morris,” Gabriel said.

“The same Dr. Morris who signed the death certificate without performing an autopsy.”