Dad looked at the screen, and something in his face went cold.
"It's her," he said.
Victoria.
He answered, putting it on speaker without preamble. "Victoria."
Her voice came through clear, smooth, unbothered. "Byron. I assume your sons are listening?"
Dad's eyes flicked to us. "They are."
"Good." A pause. "I want a meeting."
"Where?"
"Deveaux Bank. Just off Kiawah Island. Midnight."
My stomach dropped.
I’d heard of Deveaux Bank. It was isolated. Remote. A sandbar that disappeared at high tide, surrounded by water and marsh with no cover, no escape routes unless you had a boat.
It was a kill box.
"This sounds like a trap," Dad said flatly.
Victoria's laugh was soft, almost amused. "If I'd wanted to kill you all, I could have done it before. I could have done it today. But I didn't."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm reasonable," she said. "And because I want this resolved with as little mess as possible."
Dad's hand tightened on the phone. "What are your terms?"
"Simple," Victoria said. "You. Micah. And Joy."
Every muscle in my body locked.
"No," Dad said immediately. "Absolutely not."
"Then we have nothing to discuss," Victoria replied, her tone unchanged. "Those are my terms. The three of you. No one else. Midnight. Deveaux Bank."
I felt Joy stiffen beside me, but she didn't speak.
Dad's gaze cut to her, then to me. "Joy doesn't need to be there."
"She does," Victoria said. "Or there's no meeting."
My hands curled into fists. "Why?"
"Because," Victoria said pleasantly, "she's the only reason I'm offering this at all."
That landed like a knife between my ribs.
Joy's fingers tightened on mine, grounding me before I could say something I'd regret.
Dad's jaw worked. "Fine. Just a chat."
"Just a chat," Victoria agreed. "And all this can be over. Water under the bridge."
