But one riddle remained.

Why had Constance, eighteen months ago, suddenly wired two point four million dollars into her late husband’s restricted account — the one account she could not touch?

Chapter 10 — The Woman Who Came to Apologize

Two days later, Constance requested an urgent meeting through her defense attorney, at Bridgette’s office.

I braced for her usual glacial arrogance.

The woman who walked into the glass conference room instead looked fragile, tired, and years older than I remembered — a simple beige pantsuit, no diamond brooches, her eyes on the floor.

“I’m here because I owe you a sincere apology, Freya,” she said quietly, all the sharpness gone from her voice.