The The Lynn Family estate was a sprawling neo-colonial mansion that exuded an air of "old money" stability, though Conrad knew the foundation was rotting from within. As the Rolls-Royce glided up the gravel driveway, the house was ablaze with lights. It looked less like a home and more like a courthouse prepared for a public execution.
Conrad stepped through the heavy oak doors and was immediately greeted by a wall of hostile silence. The air in the foyer was thick enough to choke on.
In the grand living room, beneath a massive crystal chandelier that cast jagged shadows across the room, the entire Lynn clan had gathered. At the center sat Arthur Lynn, looking weary, his face etched with lines of stress. To his left, Martha Pierce was vibrating with a mixture of fear and fury, her finge
