Careful.
Sophie’s chin lifts. “I suspected.”
Whiskey exhales through his nose and glances at me like he knows the edge I’m standing on.
Twila folds her arms. “Montgomery money has been in half the county’s respectable charity circles for years. Pearly Gates loved respectable money. Still does.”
Sophie’s face tightens. “My father donated to everyone. Churches. Schools. Hospitals. Food drives. That doesn’t mean he knew.”
“No,” Twila says. “It means his name opens doors other men have to kick in.”
That lands.
Sophie looks away.
I want to protect her from it. I want to tear the words out of the air and make Twila swallow them.
I also want to ask Sophie why the hell I’m hearing this from Twila Dix in the clubhouse instead of from the woman I’m supposed to marry.
Both wants hit at once.
Love and rage.
That is a dangerous mix.
“Everyone out,” I say.
No one moves.
My voice drops. “Now.”
The room starts moving.
Not everyone leaves the building. That would be stupid with this many live wires, but they give space. Cornbread herdsLottie and Janie toward the kitchen. Becki stands, and Royal helps her even though she glares at him for it. Cider stays close to Becki, the old photo still in her hand. Oaks takes Brittany toward the far side of the clubhouse bar. Derby moves with Amelia but stops when she looks at Sophie.
Amelia wants to stay.
I see it.
Sophie sees it too.
“It’s okay,” Sophie says softly.
Amelia doesn’t believe her.
Neither do I.
Derby touches Amelia’s elbow with two fingers and waits until she moves before guiding her away. The restraint in the gesture annoys me because it means he remembers what I told him. It also steadies me because it means he remembers what he promised her.
Twila starts toward the door.
Whiskey follows.
“Stay close,” I tell them.
Twila turns. “Am I being ordered by a man under investigation?”
“You’re being asked by a man whose family is getting dragged into this shit.”