When Henry opened the back door, it woke her up, and Eileen’s brain felt like it was going to explode all over the inside of her skull. He handed her a large glass of ice water and two brown pills. “I thought you might want these,” he said. “I’ll get your things and take them up to your room, third door on the right after the stairs. Mr. Reamer is in his study on the first floor…whenever you’re ready. He told me to tell you there’s no rush, so take your time.”

Eileen threw both pills—they looked like ibuprofen—into her mouth without question and chased them down with four large swallows of the water. Oh God, had water ever tasted this good? She continued to chug the entire glass down, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She took a deep breath that filled her lungs till they felt like they might burst, then let it out in a loud rush through her mouth.

Henry had pulled the Bentley right into the garage. The large door was closed behind her, and she could see he’d left the door to the house cracked a few inches. There were three other cars also parked inside the garage, with plenty of room for more should Clare and Simon decide they needed more than four cars between them.

Should Simon decide, she reminded herself. For half a second, she had forgotten again. It just didn’t really seem possible that her beautiful, talented, simply awe-inspiring older sister wasn’t inside that house waiting for her to come in.

It wasn’t possible.

Eileen heaved herself from the back seat of the car and went inside to find her brother-in-law.

The door from the garage led into a slate-tiled mudroom with an upholstered bench seat and custom shelving and cabinets. A woman’s black trench coat hung from a nickel-plated hook, and a large gray leather handbag sat slouched open on the bench beneath it. From the mudroom, Clare and Simon’s large, airy family room opened up before her. The soft white walls and ceiling reflected the light from the setting sun that radiated through the glass walls on the far side of the room, turning the whole space into a warm, luminous cocoon of soft couches and silky upholstered chairs.

She had only been here once before, for Christmas with Eric and the kids three years ago, but she thought she remembered where Simon’s office was. She turned right, passed several closed doors, and saw the large mahogany entrance table with an enormous arrangement of birds-of-paradise, wide palm fronds, and artfully added red and peach roses. One pointy orange beak with its arched stem of a neck seemed to leer down at her as she passed.