It would’ve made me cry if the guard hadn’t been breathing down my neck.

“She doesn’t have an invitation,” he said to whoever was listening. “She doesn’t belong here.”

I tried to walk away, but he grabbed my wrist. I took a deep breath. Caro, please forgive me for clocking a guy at your funeral.

“She’s aggressive. She shoved me out of the way,” the guard was whining as I turned, balling up my right fist.

“Did she really?” answered a sly voice. “Consider yourself fired.”

I unclenched my fist as if disposing of evidence. There was Juliet Thraxton, broad shouldered and big boned, in a curve-hugging black suit with a pair of diamond pins in one lapel. Her platinum-blonde hair was rolled up in a chignon and tucked under a feathered black hat with a short veil. It looked like a prop from an old movie, worn by a widow who’d paid some mope to shoot her husband.

Her plump scarlet mouth was still moving. “Do I look like I’m kidding?” she asked the guard. “I’m not. Get out.”

His face was bright red. “But she—”

“Pushed you out of the way. I heard you.” She flicked her hand at him as if he were a mosquito. “Thraxtons don’t employ losers. Go.”

He retreated, muttering furiously.

“Thanks,” I said cautiously. Caro always said firing people gave her sister-in-law, Juliet, a purpose in life.

“Trust you to liven up a funeral.” She gave me a thorough once-over and raised an eyebrow as if I’d failed to meet expectations again. Juliet was the queen of barbed quips, and for a moment I thought she was about to strike. Instead, she sighed. “You probably want to see Teddy,” she said. “He’s up front with his nanny.”

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s having a tough time. Poor kid.” She started to turn away. “Don’t go looking for trouble. It finds you without any help,” she added cryptically before gliding off.

I wasn’t sure if that was a dig about the guard she’d fired, or a reference to my father. I scanned the crowd but couldn’t spot him. He had to be lurking in the shadows with the other monsters. I felt conspicuous, parading up the center aisle of the church. People turned to glance at me, but I wasn’t important enough to speak to. My sister’s casket sat in front of the altar, but I wasn’t ready for that. Instead, I looked for my nephew. Teddy was wearing the world’s tiniest, sharpest black suit, complete with a white boutonniere. He stood on the pew to hug me.

“Auntie Dee,” Teddy sighed into my neck.