It happened on a Tuesday.
I was at the house, in the kitchen, making coffee, when the doorbell rang. My mother was in the living room. Wren was upstairs. I opened the door to a woman I had never seen before—mid-thirties, sharp, holding a notebook.
"Marina Vaughn?"
"That's me."
"I'm Clara Reyes, with the Coastal Register. I'm doing a story on the Vaughn family trust, and I was hoping you might have a comment."
My heart stopped. But my face didn't change. I had spent my whole life learning how not to show anything.
"I don't have any comment," I said.
"Are you aware of the allegations regarding the trust and the payments made to a woman named Bethany Ford?"
"I'm aware of a lot of things," I said. "But I don't discuss family matters with reporters. So if you'll excuse me—"
"Your fathe
