"Dee, how are you feeling? Is there anywhere that still hurts?"
Julian set a cup of herbal medicine and a piece of candy on the nightstand beside her.
Diana glanced at the cup, her brow creasing slightly—then she looked away.
"Much better," she said.
She pressed a hand lightly over the scar on her abdomen. It had closed into a long, ugly line—a permanent reminder, every hour of every day, of everything she intended to make someone answer for.
Julian didn't push for details. He pulled out his phone and opened a video, holding the screen toward her.
"After your death was announced, your father wasted no time making it official. He's invoking the fact that you left no spouse or children—and moving to reclaim the estate your mother left you."
Diana's eyes settled on the screen. In the f
