“You should take these back,” my brother said, holding out the Christmas gifts I had brought for his

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Chapter 2

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“It’s not a mix-up,” I said quietly. “The trust account under Gregory Shaw’s office holds the master lease on the penthouse. It pays sixty percent of the monthly obligation. It covers the maintenance fees. It covers your Range Rover lease. And it paid the initial deposit for the caterers currently serving canapés on your terrace.”

The silence that followed was heavy and hollow. It sounded like the air being sucked out of a collapsed lung.

“No,” she whispered. Her voice had lost every trace of the curated chill she had used on me forty minutes earlier in the hallway. “No, that’s impossible. Andrew told me... he told me the advisory firm secured an institutional equity partner three years ago. He said the corporate housing allowance was part of his executive retainer. He said we earned this.”

“He lied to you, Celeste. Just like he lied to himself. And just like he lied to Maisie when he told her I had somewhere else to be tonight.”

“Meredith, please,” she choked out. The polished facade had dissolved completely, leaving behind a frantic woman standing in a silver gown, suddenly realizing the ground beneath her stiletto heels was made of tissue paper. “You can’t do this tonight. The photographer is here. The president of the Minneapolis Arts Council is standing by our piano. If the cards don't clear, if the catering staff packs up early, our entire reputation—we will be ruined in front of the whole city!”

“I already instructed Gregory to honor every vendor contract signed for tonight,” I said evenly. “No one is pulling the plug on your party, Celeste. The wine will flow. The quartet will play until midnight. The photographer will take your pictures. You get your gala. But tomorrow morning, the curtain comes down. The master lease on that penthouse expires on March thirty-first. The trust will not renew it. You and Andrew have three months to figure out what life you can afford on your own.”

“You’re doing this because I called the crowd curated?” she cried, anger flashing through her panic like heat lightning. “Because Andrew handed you a gift bag back? It was just a party, Meredith! You showed up unannounced in an old coat looking like a schoolteacher!”

I looked down at the green paper bag on the passenger seat. The edge of the tissue paper was torn, revealing the dark, hand-rubbed grain of our father’s cedar star.

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