Cassie nods. “Right.” She glances at me. “Your father took one of those DNA tests with his students, as part of a genealogy project. At home DNA tests were all the rage at that point and we were curious to see if over time the family skewed your ancestry over time, like taking away or adding nationalities that didn’t belong. I honestly don’t even remember what it said when he got the results back, all he could focus on was that he had a nephew. But George had been dead for months before the baby was even born.”

Mo straightens and confirms what Celeste said earlier. “Which means Aubrey was pregnant before the wedding.”

Cassie nods. “Or she got pregnant on the honeymoon before George died. Your dad must have realized that. He went to confront her.” She hesitates, then says, “You guys got in that tragic car accident that night.”

The implication settles over us like a cold fog.

“Do you think she somehow caused his accident?” Orion asks, his voice measured, but there’s a sharp edge to it, a wariness I don’t think he realizes is there.

Cassie exhales, rubbing a hand over her face as if smoothing out the years of regret that have settled in the lines there. “I don’t know. But I know that after he died, she made sure no one asked too many questions.” She hesitates, scanning each of our faces, then adds, “There’s more”

The shift in her tone sends a ripple of unease through the group. The air in the room feels heavier, pressing down on my chest, making it harder to breathe.

“When George died on their honeymoon, I didn’t believe it was an accident, I still don’t.” Her fingers tighten around the hem of her sweatshirt. “He was an excellent skier. Grew up on the slopes, and could navigate black diamond trails in his sleep. There’s no way he would’ve just… hit a tree because he was hungover.”

A chill creeps up my spine. I was never alive to meet George, but when I was young I remember people would talk about how skilled he was on the slopes. The way Cassie says it, with such quiet certainty, makes something shift inside me, an awful realization curling at the edges of my mind.

“What are you saying?” Bennett’s voice is tight, and controlled, but I can see the tension in the way he’s holding himself, the way his fingers dig into his arms as he crosses them over his chest.

Cassie meets his gaze. “I think someone made sure he didn’t come back from that trip.”