My stepmother called me at the end of the day, her voice so smug I could practically hear the smile on her lips, and told me that from now on I would never be allowed to set foot in the family beach house again because she had already changed every lock.

She turned to the officers who looked relieved to see the situation being handled. “We will provide certified copies of everything for the record,” Lydia said.

The older officer looked at Victoria. “Ma’am, you need to leave the property now,” he ordered.

“And where exactly am I supposed to go?” she demanded. “That is a logistical matter not resolved by illegal possession,” Lydia replied.

Victoria turned sharply and walked out of the house. Cassandra lingered for a moment and looked at me.

“I didn’t know about the trust,” she said quietly. “That doesn’t excuse the message you sent,” I told her.

“No, it doesn’t,” she admitted before following her mother. The sound of the front door closing echoed through the house.

Donnelly changed the locks again while I watched each screw turn. When the last car pulled out of the driveway, the house became unbearably still.

I stood alone in the kitchen with Lydia and felt the adrenaline draining away. “Where does your mother keep the tea?” Lydia asked.

The question nearly made me cry again. “In the second cabinet to the left of the stove,” I whispered.