I hated gin and tonic, but I didn’t say so. Eliza glowered at me—offended, curious, and maybe just a touch amused. She plopped her little self into a green velour wing-backed chair and gestured at the one facing her. I leaned back into it, crossing my legs across the shins as though I were wearing a skirt, and not at my thighs, like a man would. Eliza noticed. She noticed pretty much everything, I was willing to bet. She dragged her eyes up and down my posture as if she was calculating a score for my presentation.

By the time we’d settled, Harry had provided the drinks and quietly retreated. A door closed somewhere down the hall, declaring that we were alone. The distant, soft click was Eliza’s cue.

“So what do you think?” she demanded.

“Of what?”

“Me. This place. You came here to have a look, didn’t you? You jealous and greedy mixed kids always did envy this house. You’re all just sitting around, waiting for me to kick the bucket so you can go to court and try to get it.”

“I wouldn’t take this house if you gave it to me, and I don’t need your money. I came here to see you.” I figured I’d tell the truth until I had a better handle on what I needed to lie about.

Of course, she’d known that much already—I could tell by the way her eyes gleamed. “And now you have. Am I as charming as you remember?”

“As charming as I remember, and then some. I do remember you taller, but then, last time I saw you, I was a lot shorter. Honestly, though, you don’t look any different.” I was still being truthful. She hadn’t aged a day, although that wasn’t the compliment she took it to be, considering I’d thought she looked like a mummy when I was eight.

Eliza knew cheap flattery when she heard it, but she let slip a wry half smile to match the one I must have flashed. “You think you’re pretty slick, don’t you, girl?”

“Oh yes. Terribly slick.” I sipped at the alcohol and tried not to grimace. It tasted like piney kitchen cleaner. “But I’m not trying to snow you, Tatie. I came here for information, not for money or to provoke you.” I choked down another small mouthful.

Eliza did not appear relieved to hear this. She did not relax at all, but instead clutched her crystal glass tight and held it to her mouth. She swallowed the liquor full and deep, the way I treat wine. I watched the gulp slide down the wattle of her throat and disappear past her collarbones. She was positively skeletal, as nearly a ghost as I’d ever seen a living human being. If she stood in front of a good stiff light, I could have watched her insides tick through her parchment skin.

“You can’t threaten me,” she said firmly, trying to convince me that her frailty only extended so far.