Edina
Caden
I drove like I had somewhere to be.
Which I did.
Aria was in the passenger seat, quiet in the particular way she got when she was building something in her head — not shutdown, not scared, just processing and arriving and deciding. I’d learned to read her silences the way I read balance sheets, each one different, each one telling me something specific if I paid attention.
This one said she was furious and had decided to do something about it.
Good. Fury was useful. Fury kept you sharp.
Sophia was on the phone in the back seat, tracking Catherine’s plates through the last three traffic cameras before the Edina exit, confirming the route. David had insisted on coming and I hadn’t argued because it was his inheritance too and he had a right to be in the room when this conc
