Orion smirks, stepping just a little closer, sizing me up like he’s waiting for me to flinch. I don’t.

“Maybe,” he says, tucking the evidence bag into his jacket. “But I’m not the one holding a knife like it’s gonna help me win a fight.”

I glance at the knife block and exhale slowly through my nose. He’s trying to rattle me, but I don’t take the bait.

I exhale sharply, leaning against the counter. “Fine. Let’s say she is Bennett’s mom. What then? How does that help us?”

Orion glances toward the window, his expression shadowed. “Because if she’s his mother, it explains a lot. Her behavior after George’s death, the way she’s always kept herself just out of the spotlight. She makes sure she’s the gossip mill, but she’s never the one gossiped about. It also explains why she wants the town to think Cassie is the villain in this scenario.”

At the mention of Cassie, my eyes narrow. “What does Cassie have to do with this?”

Orion pushes off the counter, crossing his arms. “I spoke to her recently. She told me an interesting detail about your father.”

My stomach churns. “What about him?”

“She said she taught with him back in the day. Their classes were doing a unit on genealogy, this was back in ‘08, right before your parents died, and he submitted his DNA to one of those testing sites. Cassie said he was curious—wanted to compare the results to the family history he grew up hearing.”

I nod slowly, recalling how methodical my dad always was.

“When the results came back, all he wanted to talk to her about was finding out that he had a nephew somewhere. There was a biological match, as far as he knew, his brother didn’t have any kids. Since Cassie ran in the same circles as Aubrey and your uncle he went to her to see if she had any answers.”

Frowning, I ask, “And what did she say?”

“She reminded him of how Aubrey disappeared after George’s death,” Orion explains. “Holed up in her house for over a year, barely spoke to anyone. People chalked it up to grief, but what if there was more to it? What if she was hiding a pregnancy?”

I let his words sink in, my mind racing. It makes sense, but it’s hard to reconcile with the image I have of my aunt—the free-spirited, joyful woman who brings laughter wherever she goes.

“This is a stretch,” I say finally. “You’re speculating based on… What? Cassie’s word?”

“I’m following the threads,” Orion says firmly. “And the threads lead here.”

I shake my head, but I can’t deny the logic in his argument. The timelines, the secrecy—it all lines up in a way that’s hard to ignore.