He brushed the question aside with a sudden wave of his hand, cutting me off with a loud, hearty laugh that sounded completely out of place in the dark hallway.

“Dad spent it on specialists and private care while he was sick,” Julian said, his voice dropping right back down to a smooth, persuasive murmur.

“You work in a medical office, Elena.

You know how fast prescription copays and home nursing bills add up.”

“Dad had full Medicare coverage and a supplemental policy that paid ninety percent of everything,” I said.

Julian pressed his lips into a tight line and looked past my shoulder toward the kitchen archway.