“If you raise formal accusations before the funeral on Friday, Julian will create an immediate family uproar,” Samuel said.

“Let the legal timetable move at its proper pace.”

By half past one that afternoon, the Elm Street kitchen smelled of garlic butter and lukewarm diner coffee.

Serena carried two blue glass casserole dishes through the back door and set them down heavily on the counter.

She twirled her heavy diamond charm bracelet around her wrist while looking up at the pine cabinet trim.

“Julian has already spoken to a real estate broker about the listing price for this property,” Serena said, her voice rising in a breathy, dramatic exclamation.