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Catherine sat on the velvet settee with a gin and tonic in her hand. She was already drinking, which meant she expected the conversation to become unpleasant. Leonard stood near the fireplace gripping a poker he had no reason for. He only wanted something in his hand while he told me what a disappointment I was.

Neither of them greeted me. That was fine. I had stopped expecting affection from them years ago.

“Richard,” Leonard said. “Sit down.”

I remained near the doorway and unbuttoned my jacket. “You didn’t call me here for dinner. Let’s skip the bullshit. What’s this really about?”

“Thomas called me this afternoon.”

“Does he need more money?”

“He needs you to stop leaving problems for him to clean up.”

I glanced at my mother. She took a long drink without looking away from me.

Leonard placed the poker beside the fireplace. “People are talking, Richard. Thomas has heard your name from two different sources in the past month. If one of them decides to speak to the police instead of him, he may not be able to contain it.”

“Then he should find someone better at his job.”

“This is not a joke. Every body you leave behind creates another opportunity for someone to connect you to this family.”

“I’m aware of how murder investigations work.”

“Then start acting like it.” Leonard stepped closer. “One real investigation puts attention on our businesses, our political connections, and everyone associated with the Collective. You don’t get to jeopardize everything this family has built because you enjoy killing.”

I arched a brow. “You invited me here to tell me Thomas Grant is afraid?”

“No. I called you here because he is tired of protecting you. And so am I.”

I chuckled at that.

Catherine set her glass down. “You’ve always been sick. I knew something was wrong with you long before Caroline’s accident.”

I turned toward her.

“I know you did it,” she continued. “I have always known.”

Caroline had been six when she died. I had enjoyed being an only child before she came along. The house had been quiet, and my parents’ attention had belonged to me. Then they brought her home, and suddenly everything revolved around Caroline. Her crying. Her questions. Her constant need to follow me from room to room. She touched my things, interrupted me, and ran to our mother whenever I frightened her.

I never wanted a sister.

That afternoon, she followed me up the staircase after I had already told her to leave me alone. She kept talking, threatening to tell Mother something I had done. I pushed her. She hit the stairs several times before landing at the bottom. She cried for a little while. Blood spread beneath the back of her head.

Then she stopped.

Mother found her first. She knew, but she and Father still called it an accident. Thomas made sure no one asked too many questions, and my parents stood beside me at the funeral while I pretended to mourn the sister I had never wanted.

They had protected the Kincaid name then. They were doing the same thing now.

I held back a laugh. “You’ve had years to convince yourself I killed her.”

“I didn’t need convincing.” Catherine’s lip curled. She slammed her glass down so hard the ice jumped. “I still see that same selfish boy who always puts himself first.”

Leonard moved between us and faced me. “Enough. We are not talking about Caroline.”

“Of course we aren’t.” I looked at him. “Neither of you enjoys remembering the first body Thomas covered up for this family.”

Leonard pointed at me. “Watch your mouth.”