The shout came from somewhere deep in the crowd.
Andrew stepped forward immediately, blocking the man who'd spoken. "No. Don't call the police."
Pain twisted across his face. "This is a family matter. Chester is already gone. If we get the police involved and blow this up, what happens to the children? How will they ever live this down?"
He turned to me.
"Catherine, I know you didn't mean it. You just lost your head for a moment, right?"
"Just admit it. We'll find a way to handle this quietly. The children are so young. They need someone to depend on."
I looked at him, and a laugh slipped out of me.
He wanted me to confess voluntarily. That way, everything could unfold exactly according to their plan.
I'd rot in prison while they helped themselves to everything I owned — my property, my savings — all while milking the two children for sympathy and convenience.
But not this time. Not in this life.
I stared at Andrew's face, fighting the urge to lunge at him and tear it apart with my bare hands.
But he was still putting on his little show.
"Catherine, why aren't you saying anything?"