My heart pounds, every word feeling like a step closer to the edge of a cliff. I force a grin, raising my glass slightly. “Here’s to tying up loose ends, then.”

Aubrey lifts her glass, her smile never faltering. “To tying up loose ends.”

We clink our glasses together.

The sound is sharp, hollow.

None of us drink.

And this time, I know she notices.

30

Selene

The glass of sweet tea is cold against my palm, but I can’t bring myself to drink it. The thought of it—of what might be lurking in the amber liquid—churns my stomach. I try not to stare at it too long, try not to let my disgust show, but the weight of the glass feels heavier than it should.

Aubrey’s eyes flick between us, her smile a little too precise, a little too careful. “You’re not drinking,” the lightness in her voice an illusion. There’s a sharper note underneath—dangerous and waiting.

I force a small laugh, swirling the tea in my glass as if I’m savoring it instead of resisting the urge to throw it back in her face. “Oh, I will,” I say smoothly. “Just taking it all in first. This is…beautiful, Aubrey. Truly. I can see why Gabriel loved celebrating anniversaries with you.”

Theo shifts slightly beside me, his knee brushing against mine. It’s a subtle reminder: Stay calm. Stay in control.

Aubrey’s smile relaxes, though her grip on her glass remains firm. “He was the best man I’ve ever known,” she says softly, her voice thick with what sounds like genuine emotion. “Every year, I tried to make it special for him. He deserved that much.”

A flicker of heat flares in my chest—anger, sharp and searing. Did her other victims deserve that much? Did Theo’s parents? Did George?

I nod, leaning forward just enough to seem invested, meeting her gaze head-on. “Theo mentioned how thoughtful you always were. What was the most over-the-top thing you ever did for him? You already told me about your favorite anniversary he planned.”

Her eyes light up, and for a moment, she’s lost in the memory, in the nostalgia. She starts talking, recounting some elaborate, romantic gesture—meant to be sweet but instead feels like a performance, a carefully constructed narrative meant to manipulate.

As she speaks, I keep swirling my glass, pretending to listen while sneaking a glance at Morgan. She’s leaning back on her hands, her glass resting untouched beside her. Her expression is calm, even amused, but her eyes meet mine briefly, sharp and knowing. We’re all waiting, circling like predators around a snake, ready to strike.

“And Gabriel loved it,” Aubrey finishes with a small, wistful laugh. “He said it was the happiest he’d ever been.”

Theo speaks up then, his voice steady and warm. “He was lucky to have you, Aubrey. You always knew how to make people feel special.”