Two hours later, Sutton and Keira were sitting in Roman’s living room, staring at Blair like she’d lost her mind.
“Let me get this straight,” Sutton said slowly. “You want us to pretend you’re dead? At your fake funeral. So we can catch Uncle Peter confessing to murder.”
“That’s the plan,” Blair confirmed, curled up on the couch next to Roman. Her head was still pounding, but the painkillers were finally kicking in.
“That’s the dumbest plan I’ve ever heard,” Keira said flatly. “And I once watched you try to dye your hair with Kool-Aid.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“You looked like a traffic cone for three months! And that was just regular stupidity, not fake-death stupidity.”
Roman cleared his throat. “The plan has merit. Peter thinks he’s untouchable right now. If he believes Blair is d
