The ballroom was full of people who would remember this night.

The call from her sister came on a Friday night.

Evelyn was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea gone cold and a folder of documents Diana had sent over, and when she saw the name on the screen — *Carolyn* — she felt something shift in her stomach that had nothing to do with the case.

She and Carolyn had not spoken in fourteen months.

She answered anyway.

"Evelyn." Carolyn's voice was careful.

Rehearsed, almost.

"I've been seeing the news.

The video.

I wanted to call."

"All right," Evelyn said.

"Are you okay?

Is Lily okay?"

"We're fine."

A pause.

"I spoke to Julian."

The folder in Evelyn's hand went very still.

"He called you," Evelyn said.

"He reached out, yes.

He's — Evelyn, he's saying things that worried me.

About your state of mind.

About the choices you're making.

He said you've been influenced by a woman with a personal vendetta against his family and that you're about to throw away a fair settlement because of it."

"Forty thousand pounds," Evelyn said.

"For jewelry and a bequest worth considerably more.

That's the fair settlement."

"He said the amount was negotiable—"

"Carolyn." Evelyn set the folder down.

"Why did you answer when he called?"

Silence.

"He's your husband," Carolyn said finally.

"He h*t me in front of our daughter."

"I saw the video, Evelyn.

I did.

And I'm not saying what he did was right.

But I also know you.

I know how you can be when you feel cornered.

And I'm worried you're making this into something bigger than it needs to be because you're angry, and I understand being angry, but anger is not a legal strategy—"

"Diana Marsh is my legal strategy," Evelyn said.

"She's very good."

"She's someone with a grudge against that family who is using your situation to settle her own score."

"She's someone who has documented evidence of financial irregularities in the Harcourt estate going back years, who has a copy of Margaret Harcourt's codicil, and who has been waiting for the right moment to bring it all into the light." Evelyn's voice was steady.

She was surprised by that.

"And she chose to help me.

I'm not going to apologize for accepting."

"He'll destroy you in court."

"He'll try."

"Evelyn—"

"Carolyn." She stopped.

Breathed.

Tried to find the version of this conversation that didn't end with the phone slammed down.

"What exactly did he ask you to do?"

A long pause.

"He asked me to talk to you," Carolyn said.

"To encourage you to take the settlement.

He said if this goes to court it'll be brutal, and Lily will be caught in the middle, and—"

"And he called my sister," Evelyn said slowly, "to deliver that message, because he knows that you and I have history, and he knows that if anyone could make me doubt myself, it's you."

Nothing on the line.

"That's what he's doing," Evelyn said.

"You understand that, don't you?

He's not worried about Lily.

He's not worried about me.

He's worried about that recording and what Gerald Foss is going to say in court and what Diana has in those files.

And he went looking for the person most likely to reach me, and he found you."

Carolyn's voice, when it came, was quieter.

"He said you'd say something like that."

"Of course he did."

"Evelyn—"

"Did he offer you anything?" Evelyn asked.

"For making the call?"

The pause that followed was one second too long.

"Carolyn," Evelyn said.

"It wasn't — he mentioned that there were some of Mum's things still in the estate storage.

Things I've been trying to get back for years.

He said if the matter was resolved quickly, he'd make sure they were returned."

The kitchen was very quiet.

Evelyn had not known about the things in storage.

She had not known Carolyn had been trying to get them back.

She had not known Julian had them, or knew about them, or had been holding them as a card to play.

"How long has he had Mum's things?" she asked.

"Since she passed.

They were in the house when we cleared it, and Julian offered to arrange storage because we didn't have room, and then he just — never returned them." Carolyn's voice had changed.

Something in it had gone smaller, older.

"I asked three times.

He always had a reason."

"He's been holding our mother's belongings," Evelyn said, "for four years.

And he called you this week to offer them back.

In exchange for talking me into silence."

A sound on the line.

Not quite a word.

"He knew exactly what he was doing," Evelyn said.

"And he knew you'd come to me.

And he knew I'd be alone in this kitchen and you'd be the one voice I might actually listen to." She stopped.

"I'm not angry at you.

I want you to know that."

"Evelyn—"

"But I need you to understand what he is.

Not what he performs.

What he actually is."

Carolyn was quiet for a long moment.

"The things in storage," she said finally.

"Mum's things.

If you go to court and lose—"

"We won't lose," Evelyn said.

"And when this is over, we'll get them back.

All of them.

I promise you that."

Another silence.

Then: "What do you need from me?"

Evelyn looked at the folder on the table.

"Tell me everything he said to you.

Exactly.

Word for word."

She reached for a pen.

It took forty minutes.

When it was done, Evelyn had three pages of notes and a clearer picture of what Julian was willing to do when he was frightened.

She called Diana immediately after.

Diana listened without interrupting.

When Evelyn finished, there was a brief pause.

"He used your sister," Diana said.

"Yes."

"And he has your mother's belongings in storage."

"Yes."

"That's leverage he's been holding for four years." Diana's voice was thoughtful.

"He doesn't do anything without a reason.

If he's pulling that card now, he's more worried than his lawyers are letting on."

"What do we do with it?"

"We document it," Diana said.

"And then we let him worry a little longer." A pause.

"Court date is in three weeks.

Can you hold?"

Evelyn looked at the three pages of notes.

At the cold cup of tea.

At the drawing on the refrigerator — stick figures, flowers in the window boxes that weren't there.

"Yes," she said.

"I can hold."

She didn't sleep well that night.

But in the morning, Lily came into the kitchen and asked if they could put real flowers in the window boxes before summer, and Evelyn said yes, and meant it.