Chapter 1 - THE FUNERAL HE DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT
Alex Carter had been gone six days.
Not on vacation.
Not on business in the ordinary sense.
He had been in Toronto trying to save the largest contract Carter Development had signed in twenty years.
His phone had died the first night after a water-damaged charger shorted in the hotel room.
Then a replacement phone failed to restore half his messages because his account had locked.
He called home from the office landline twice.
No answer.
He assumed Clara was angry.
She had been furious when he left.
“Your family keeps asking you to rescue them.”
Alex had answered:
“It’s one contract.”
Clara said:
“It’s always one more thing.”
Then he flew home.
The Carter house was full of black cars.
People in dark clothes.
White flowers at the entrance.
Alex stopped in the driveway.
He did not understand.
Then he saw the memorial wreath.
CLARA CARTER.
His wife’s name.
He ran.
The front door opened before he reached it.
Inside, a funeral gathering filled the living room.
And upstairs, Lily screamed.
Alex heard:
“SHUT UP!”
Then:
“DADDY!”
He exploded through the hallway.
Teresa stood over Lily.
His mother.
Sixty-two.
Black funeral dress.
One hand still raised.
Lily was six.
White dress.
Doll clutched to her chest.
Red mark on one cheek.
Alex scooped her up.
“Who hit you?!”
Lily buried her face in his shoulder.
Then Alex looked past her.
The casket.
Clara’s portrait.
His wife smiling beside white lilies.
Alex stopped breathing.
“Clara...?”
His knees nearly gave out.
Lily gripped his shirt.
“Daddy… Mommy was scared.”
Alex looked down.
“What?”
Lily pointed across the room.
At Derek.
Alex’s younger brother went pale.
“He scared Mommy.”
Then:
“She kept calling you!”
Alex’s grief changed shape.
He put Lily behind him.
Charged.
Grabbed Derek by the collar.
“WHAT DID YOU DO?!”
“NOTHING!”
Teresa rushed between them.
Alex shoved Derek away.
Then turned to his mother.
“Mom.”
Teresa froze.
“You knew, didn’t you?”
Her face drained.
Alex stepped closer.
“Tell me EVERYTHING.”
Teresa opened her mouth.
Then the funeral director whispered:
“Mr. Carter… perhaps not here.”
Alex stared at everyone.
Family.
Friends.
Employees.
People who had buried his wife before he even understood she was dead.
He looked at Teresa.
“No.”
May you like
His voice was quiet now.
“Here is exactly where we start.”
