“I’m sorry, Ms. Ford, I didn’t know you were still here. I can come back.”

“Where’s Alvita?” Cindy said. “I told Chang that my father didn’t need a series of strangers tromping in and out of here. He likes Alvita. I like Alvita.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Ford. She’s off today.”

Cindy frowned.

“I’ll come back,” the nurse said, retreating as fast as she could out of the room. Matt didn’t blame the woman.

Cindy turned back to Matt. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“It’s about the services.”

Matt had already fielded dozens of texts from Cindy about the funeral, and wondered how there could possibly be more questions—more decisions about the flowers, the photos to display, the program, the obituary, and the other things Matt cared nothing about. He supposed immersing herself in the details was how Cindy was coping with the grief.

“Noah Brawn would like to have the wake at his home,” Cindy said.

Matt thought about this. “Mom’s high school boyfriend? The guy from the documentary? Won’t it be weird to—”

“Look, it’s not ideal. I frankly never liked Noah when we were growing up. But he’s the governor of the state now. The reason your grandpa has this big room. And I think your parents would want this.”

“Are you sure about that? Because I’m not so sure that my—”

“We need Noah for Danny’s pardon.”

And there it was. His brother’s case had dominated his family in life, so of course it would dominate in death. There was no use fighting about it.

“Okay.”

“And I know you haven’t wanted to talk about it, but we need to take care of your parents’ affairs. The house, their credit cards, the will, the life insurance, the—”

“You’re right, I don’t want to talk about it,” Matt said. It came out more sharply than he’d intended, reminded him of the outrageous newspaper story from that morning suggesting he and Danny had killed their family for insurance money. He needed to shake it off. In a softer tone, he said, “After the funeral, I promise.”

Cindy looked like she was going to protest, but stopped herself. Purposefully changing the subject, she said, “So what did those assholes the Adlers want?”

She’d asked him the same thing on the car ride over, but he’d shrugged it off. “I guess they’re making a sequel,” Matt said.

Cindy’s expression turned to disgust. “I’ll never forgive myself for letting them interview me. The way they treated your father. And now they want to put everyone through it all again? It makes me sick.”