Chapter 5: What Sisters Keep
Vera was already seated when I arrived.
She had chosen the restaurant — a quiet place in the financial district she had always preferred because the tables were far apart and the staff were trained not to linger.
She was on her second glass of wine.
Her coat was draped over the chair beside her.
She looked up when I walked in and smiled the way she always smiled at me — warm on the surface, measuring underneath.
"Julian." She stood to kiss my cheek.
"It's been too long."
"Fourteen months," I said.
She sat back down.
"You were counting."
"I count everything." I took the seat across from her.
"You look well."
"I am well." She tilted her head.
"You said it was about the estate?"
"I lied," I said.
Her wine glass paused halfway to her mouth.
"I want to talk about Dominic Carr," I said.
Nothing moved in her face.
That was the tell.
Vera was expressive by nature — she reacted to everything, always had, since we were children.
The absence of a reaction was its own reaction.
"I don't know anyone by that name," she said.
"You co-directed a company with him for eighteen months," I said.
"Registered address on Fenwick Road.
Dissolved about eight months after my wife and daughter were k*lled."
The word landed.
I watched her.
Her hand came down.
The wine glass touched the table.
"Julian—"
"Don't," I said.
"Don't start with my name.
Don't start with a question.
Just tell me what you did."
"I didn't do anything." Her voice was low and tight.
"I signed some papers.
Dominic said it was a property investment.
He said it was legitimate."
"And you believed him."
"He was your associate.
I assumed—"
"You assumed I would never find out," I said.
She looked away.
Her jaw was working.
"Vera." I leaned forward.
"A car followed my wife out of a parking lot.
The brakes on her vehicle failed on a road she drove every week.
My four-year-old daughter was in the back seat." I stopped.
"Your niece."
Her eyes came back to me.
They were wet.
"I didn't know," she said.
"I swear to you, I didn't know what he was going to do."
"But you knew he was going to do something."
Silence.
"Vera."
"He told me—" She stopped.
Pressed her fingers to her mouth.
Then: "He told me Elena was going to leave you.
That she had found out about certain business arrangements and was going to go to the authorities.
He said he needed to protect the operation.
He said it would be handled quietly." Her voice broke on the last word.
"I thought he meant he was going to pay her.
Or frighten her.
I didn't think—"
"You didn't think," I said.
"Or you didn't want to know."
She was crying now, silently, the way Vera always cried — like she was trying to hide it even while it was happening.
"I have lived with it for two years," she said.
"Every single day."
"So have I," I said.
"Except I didn't know what I was living with."
I sat back.
"Elena wasn't going to the authorities," I said.
"She didn't know anything about my business arrangements.
Carr lied to you.
He used you to create a paper trail that pointed away from him, and then he gave you a reason that you were willing to believe because it made you feel less responsible."
Vera stared at me.
"He used you," I said again.
"And you let him.
Because you signed the papers and you didn't ask questions and somewhere underneath all of it you were angry at Elena for reasons that had nothing to do with my business."
Her face crumpled.
"I was jealous," she whispered.
"I know how that sounds.
She had you, she had Lily, she had this whole life and I was—" She shook her head.
"It doesn't matter.
None of that matters now."
"No," I said.
"It doesn't."
I stood up.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"What I should have done two years ago," I said.
"Find out exactly what Carr did and make sure he answers for it."
"And me?"
I looked at my sister.
She looked older than I remembered.
Smaller.
"You're going to write down everything," I said.
"Every conversation.
Every document you signed.
Every instruction Carr gave you.
Every name he mentioned.
You're going to write it all down and you're going to give it to me."
"And then?"
"And then we'll see what's left of us," I said.
I walked out of the restaurant without looking back.
On the pavement outside, Theo was waiting by the car.
"How did she take it?" he asked.
"She knew," I said.
"Not everything.
But enough."
Theo opened the car door.
"Carr made contact twenty minutes ago," he said.
"He's called a meeting.
Tomorrow night.
He wants to see you."
I stopped.
"He called me?"
"Through the usual channel.
Said he has a business proposition.
Wants to meet at the Aldgate Club." Theo paused.
"He doesn't know what you know.
But he knows something has shifted.
He's moving first."
I got into the car.
May you like
"Good," I said.
"Let him think he still can."
