I nodded, grateful that I didn’t have to explain. My sister always had been our father’s defender; it was the main reason we’d stopped speaking for several years. There was so much more to say, but nothing I wanted to add at that moment.

“Caroline said he’d had a problem with alcohol that made him abusive,” Theo added. “But she also insisted that he’s been sober for some time now. I’d never allow him near Teddy if he weren’t.”

“Sure, blame the alcohol,” I muttered. It was typical of Caro—blame the drug and give the monster a pass. I cleared my throat. There were hard questions I had to ask. “Theo, a reporter at the funeral asked me if my sister was using drugs. I know that’s crazy, but . . .”

“She was taking several prescriptions. It’s unclear whether that affected her heart.”

To my ears, he sounded defensive. My spine stiffened. “What exactly was she taking?”

“She went on an antidepressant after Teddy was born. I know she had prescriptions for anxiety and insomnia and headaches. Heartburn too.”

I knew Caro had suffered from migraines and postpartum depression, but I had trouble believing the rest. My sister had always been a healthy person. “When did she start taking antianxiety meds?”

“I don’t know. She never discussed it with me.”

“What about illegal—”

He cut me off before I could finish my question. “I’m sure Caroline would never. As far as I know, red wine was her hardest vice.”

“I didn’t mean my sister. I meant you,” I said, determined to rattle his calm front. “You used to be an addict, right? Have you taken anything illicit lately?”

“No, not in years.” He looked genuinely surprised by the question, and I couldn’t blame him. My father had regularly transformed into a monster under the influence of alcohol, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Theo made a similar werewolf-like switch. I was still struggling to reconcile what I knew of Theo—a stand-up guy who worked for a nonprofit that repatriated stolen artifacts—with the man Caro had written about in her letter. “I had a double scotch at lunch,” he added sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure how to get through it otherwise.”

He sounded honest, but I had to be skeptical. “I never saw a copy of the autopsy report. Would you be able to give me one?”

“There was no autopsy.”

That jolted me. My sister’s death was a terrible shock, and I’d been wallowing in grief instead of demanding answers. That had changed with my sister’s message. Everything had changed. “Why not? Isn’t that automatic when a person dies suddenly?”

“Only if there’s evidence of foul play.”

I swallowed hard. “What if there was, Theo?”

He stared at me blankly. “Was what?”

“Foul play.” I leaned forward. “What if someone killed her?”