Flynn loomed. “Start talking. Who sent you?”
Kerr chuckled, then winced. “You think this ends with me? Christ.” He spat blood onto the floorboards. “You’re all so earnest. It’s almost admirable. Cute, even.”
Heather stepped forward—not rushing, not shaking. The fury in her wasn’t loud. It was precise.
“Who was in my house tonight?” she asked slowly.
Kerr’s gaze slid to her, sharp now. Assessing. “You,” he said, wagging his index finger, “are not what I expected.”
“No,” she replied, narrowing her eyes. “I’m worse.”
His mouth twitched. “We’re tired, Campbell. Tired of losing what should be ours.”
Flynn’s hand fisted in Kerr’s collar. “Say that again.”
Heather lifted a hand.
Flynn stopped.
Kerr studied her more closely. Recognition sparked, and with it, something darker.
“You’re her daughter,” he spat. “Same eyes. That…hair. Same way of standing like the room owes you answers.”
“Don’t speak about my mother,” Heather said.
“She was reckless,” Kerr replied lightly. “Brilliant, sure, but reckless. Always poking where she shouldn’t. Always convinced she was the cleverest person in the room.”
Heather didn’t flinch. “She was careful.”
Kerr paused.
Just long enough.
“Shethoughtshe was,” he corrected. “Thought she could play custodian of history. Guardian of the truth.” His lip curled. “She panicked when she realized how far in she was.”
“You threatened her,” Heather said.
“I warned her.”
“You followed her.”
“I monitored her.”
“You killed her.”
Kerr laughed bitterly. “Is that what you need me to say?”
Heather stepped closer. Close enough now that he could see himself reflected in her eyes.
“No,” she said quietly. “Not unless it’s the truth.”
The fire crackled. Rain rattled the windows.
“She ran,” Kerr said, irritation creeping in. “Went to Arkaig like a fool. Thought the loch would protect her.”
“She didn’t fall in,” Heather said as the truth dawned on her in horror.
Kerr’s eyes flicked to hers.
