Then, terrified: “There’s a master file in that folder.

Called Legacy. He called it his insurance policy.”

Linnea listened to Sabeen come apart on the speaker and felt something she had not expected, which was a complicated, unwilling flicker of recognition.

Sabeen was not innocent; she had betrayed her husband, had helped build the frame around him, had let herself be drawn into something monstrous.

But listening to her confession, Linnea could hear the shape of how Dorian had done it, and it was the same shape he had used on everyone.

He had approached Sabeen the way he approached all his marks — with a plausible, even kind-sounding pretext. I want to help your husband.