I came home from the funeral to tell my parents and sister that my husband had left me $8.5m and 6 Manhattan lofts. When I walked into the house, I overheard my parents talking. What they were saying… made my blood run cold.

Patricia finds out about Helen on Friday. Mrs. Carol, who else spotted Helen at the coffee shop on Route 9 and reported back within the hour? Patricia is waiting in the kitchen when I come downstairs.

“Did you contact Helen?”

She doesn’t ask it. She states it like a prosecutor entering evidence.

“She saw Nathan’s obituary on Facebook,” I say. “She reached out. I didn’t invite her.”

“You know, she’s not welcome in this family. She tried to destroy us before.”

“She asked how I was doing, that’s all.”

Patricia’s jaw tightens.

“If Helen shows up at the gala, I will make a scene. She is not family anymore.”

Gerald appears in the doorway, coffee mug suspended.

“Why is Helen here? What does she want?”

Patricia turns to him with the calm, measured voice I’ve heard her use on church committees and school boards and anyone who needs to be managed.

“She doesn’t know anything. She’s just here to stir trouble like she always does.”

But I can see it. The flicker behind Patricia’s eyes. She’s rattled. Helen is the one person who’s beaten her before. And now Helen is six miles away.