The morning after Kieran broke into my home, Bridgette and I sat in her downtown office reviewing archived board resolutions from the foundation’s historical database.

And that was when we noticed something strange about Kieran’s younger sister, Dr.

Astrid Abernathy, a pediatric surgeon in Baltimore.

Astrid was the only member of the Abernathy family I had ever truly respected.

She cared about her patients and avoided her mother’s ravenous pursuit of status entirely.

“While Constance complained about the flower arrangements at your wedding,” Bridgette reminded me as we scrolled, “Astrid spent two hours in the kitchen helping the overworked staff prep dishes.” And yet, according to the official records, Astrid had approved dozens of questionable internal financial resolutions over the past three years.

Her signature was stamped beside Kieran’s and Constance’s on every single transfer authorization.