Lander grimaces and tosses the ice pack onto the table. “My father took my mother back. She told me she was in remission. They both told me to go to Oxford, and Travis told me that if I didn’t, our father would blame my mother for holding me back. He told me that dear old Dad would stop taking care of her, that she would lose her health insurance and that would be the end of it.”

“And you always trust Travis.”

“I didn’t think he would mislead me about that,” Lander says, his eyes narrowing as he looks deep into the past. “I did everything they asked me to do. I went to Oxford for my graduate degree. I wrote my mother, occasionally we spoke on the phone. I wanted to come home to be with her, but there was always something she thought I should do in Europe, something my father wanted me to do and she would beg me to comply. And Travis was always calling, counseling me, telling me how tenuous my mother’s relationship was with our father. He explained that while it was true that she was in remission she wouldn’t be out of the woods until she was cancer free and stayed cancer free for a few years. We had to be vigilant. We had to keep Father happy. We had to keep the peace.”

He says the last few words with so much sarcasm and venom that I actually shudder. I don’t understand the point of this story. I’m not sure I want to . . . but I’m not really convinced that he’s lying either. Still . . .

“I’ve done my research, Lander,” I say, trying to keep the uncertainty out of my tone. “Your mother died alone in a small apartment. As far as I can tell, the prenup your father had her sign ensured that she got a little less than nothing. And although I wasn’t able to get my hands on her health records, I’m pretty sure she did lose her health insurance. So your story—”

“Is a lie,” Lander says in a low voice. “A total lie told to a naïve son. I didn’t know it then. I didn’t know it until she died, one day before my graduation ceremonies. It was Travis who told me. He looked me in the eye and told me that she was dead and that my father had finalized the divorce well over a year ago. He told me that they lied to me so I could focus on my studies and uphold the Gable name. And then he smiled.”

“He . . . smiled?” He’s trying to make me feel sorry for him. Me. But that won’t happen. Never, ever again.