Chapter 4
Adam left home at 8:40 the night he died.
I remembered because we argued.
Not with each other.
About his family.
Walter wanted Adam to reclaim operational control from me.
Lydia called my leadership temporary.
Heather called me an outsider wearing a Miller ring.
Adam laughed at all three.
Then kissed me goodbye.
“I’ll handle them.”
He never came home.
For eighteen months, I believed the argument had been irrelevant.
Now I looked at Walter.
“You met Adam that night.”
He said nothing.
Lydia answered:
“He was our son. Of course we met him.”
“Where?”
“Family lodge.”
Blackwood Pass sat fifteen minutes beyond it.
My stomach tightened.
“What did you want?”
Walter sighed.
“To make him understand his responsibility.”
“Meaning?”
Heather snapped:
“He was letting you control everything.”
“I was controlling it.”
“That’s the problem.”
I almost laughed.
There it was.
Adam had not been weak.
He had simply chosen me.
Lydia looked at Louisa.
“Her father forgot blood.”
I stepped between them.
“Don’t speak to her.”
“She should know what kind of man he was.”
“My husband?”
“A man who embarrassed his parents for a woman.”
I stared.
Adam had died.
Lydia was still angry that he loved me.
“What happened at the lodge?”
Walter’s jaw tightened.
“He refused us.”
“What did you ask?”
“To step back.”
“From me?”
“From your organization.”
“My organization.”
“Adam’s organization.”
“No.”
I raised my signet hand.
“He chose me to lead it.”
Walter’s face darkened.
Exactly.
That was the wound.
Heather whispered:
“He shouldn’t have.”
I looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because men stopped respecting him.”
“No.”
“They mocked him.”
“Who?”
No answer.
I understood.
Them.
The humiliation had lived inside this family, not outside it.
“What happened after he refused?”
Lydia smiled coldly.
“He drove away angry.”
Walter added:
“He should have stayed.”
Same philosophy.
If the victim obeyed, the consequence wouldn’t happen.
I stepped closer.
“Did you follow him?”
Walter looked away.
Heather didn’t.
She looked toward the window.
Snow.
Road.
Memory.
I saw it.
“You were in the second car.”
Her head snapped back.
Lydia whispered:
“Heather.”
May you like
Too late.
My sister-in-law had just shown me exactly where to look next.
