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“Well, hers,” I say, a bit queasy myself since it’s my friend’s blood and not some random stranger’s. “She cut her hand.” I ease Emily’s arm up, turning it so he can see. Blood is already slicking her palm, running in thin lines down her arm and dripping off her elbow.

That’s all he needs. Gerry shifts gears instantly. He’s calm, fully competent. He slides his hands beneath Emily’s shoulders and lowers her gently to the floor. “Alright, give me a towel, a napkin, anything clean. And someone get Giles. Tell him to bring the first aid kit.”

Katherine moves first, shaky but grateful for direction. Theo pushes a linen napkin toward him, and Gerry presses it to Emily’s palm. “Small cut,” he says. “It looks worse than it is. Nothing deep.” He glances up at me, his gentle expression steady amid the mess. “She still hates the sight of it, huh?”

“Worse than ever, apparently.” I wince.

He shakes his head. “My favorite delicate disaster.” His tone is soft, affectionate. He checks her pulse, then smooths a wet strand of hair from her forehead. “She’ll wake up in a minute, embarrassed as hell. Someone clear the table before she comes to. She’ll faint all over again if she sees the mess.”

Baryn grunts through the napkin, nasally and defensive. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

Gerry doesn’t even glance up. “Good for you, champ. Try not to bleed on the linens.” He leans closer to me. “His nose always does that when he’s stressed. I’ve seen it a hundred times. These two were quite the pair as kids. Bear bleeding all over the place, and Emily fainting at the sight of it.” He chuckles.

At least we can rule out the coke.

Emily stirs just as Giles arrives with the kit. Gerry stays crouched, still holding pressure on her hand. “Easy there,” he says. “You’re fine. No emergency, just your body’s dramatic way of reminding us you’re high-maintenance.” He inclines his head toward her. “Don’t look at your hand, Em. Focus on the rug. It’s hideous, isn’t it? Perfect distraction.”

That earns a faint groan from her, which makes him brighten. “There she is.” He looks up at the rest of us, all frozen around the table. “See? Nothing to panic over. Everyone can relax.”

He tapes the bandage neatly, dusts off his knees, and stands, surveying the wreckage with a sigh. “Well,” he says dryly, “next time I leave the table, I expect the house to still be standing when I get back.”

And just like that, dinner is over.

It’s late. Too late to be going over crime scene photos, but sleep is out of the question after the shitshow that was dinner.

Theo sits against the headboard. I’m lying beside him, curled on my side, blanket pulled up to my chin.

“What are you thinking?” I ask, quieter than usual, like speaking too loud might wake the ghosts lingering in the walls. Or Emily.

“Thomas and Baryn are the only two on my radar.” Something about the way he says the words feels forced, but I can’t put my finger on why.

I adjust myself slightly to face him. “Why’s that?”

He rubs a hand down his face before shifting his phone toward me. “Aside from the fact that Emily faints at the sight of her own blood?”

I snort. “Emily was never an option.”

Theo turns his head to look at me, expression giving nothing away. “Everyone’s an option, sweetheart,” he mimics Baryn’s little term of endearment for me.

I curl my lip at him. “Don’t call me that.”

The corner of his mouth moves—just barely—but I catch it.

“The method of her murder suggests the killer was much stronger and also probably much taller than Victoria, since she was standing when she was attacked. She was five-eight herself, and every other woman in this family is five foot nothing,” he explains.

I hum, running a hand through my hair as I shift onto my back. “So whoever did it needed the strength and the height.”

“Exactly.”

I let the thought settle. “That narrows it down.”

Theo glances at me. “To two people.”

"Three," I tease. "You’re taller than her."

He snorts. "Right, because I left my ethics lecture, drove to a cursed mansion, and strangled a woman to death with a leather strap. Her husband being someone I represented in court. Solid theory."

I let out a dramatic sigh. “I am full of theories.”