“To chase away the darkness,” she said with a sad smile.

“To chase away the darkness,” Irene echoed.

Clem bumped her shoulder against Irene’s. “Now let’s go eat some expensive food on the Bonners’ dime.”

They were the last three to walk through the Bonners’ front door, and with their arrival, staff members served the first course alongside glasses of bourbon that accented each place setting. Irene found herself immediately searching out Kaden, who’d saved her a seat next to him.

“We were wondering if you three were going to join us,” Sylvia said with a bless-your-heart smile and a honey-sweet voice, bringing the chatter around the table to a halt.

Irene steeled herself, focusing instead on Addison, who sat next to Sylvia. She could feel her daughter’s nerves. After everything, the least she could do was support Addison.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she said a little too brightly.

Thank you, her daughter mouthed.

Unlike Irene’s forced happiness, Maura was scowling a few chairs down. Elena Baker whispered something to her, which put a hint of a smile on Maura’s lips.

As Irene settled in, conversation started up again.

She ducked her head toward Kaden and dropped her voice to a whisper. “How are you doing with all of this?”

“Not great,” he said.

She grabbed his hand under the table and gave it a squeeze.

Nate sat across from Kaden. Irene did her best to avoid eye contact as she picked at her food.

“Irene,” Nate said with a nod.

She set her fork down on the side of her plate and glared at him. She glanced up and down the long dining table, leaned in, and lowered her voice.

“Don’t think for one second I’ve forgotten what you said to me at the funeral.”

“Then why are you here?” Nate asked.

She didn’t answer him as she sat back, avoiding the glass of bourbon that had been poured for her. Instead, she tore chunks off a biscuit and popped them into her mouth, waiting for Nate to turn his attention elsewhere.

It didn’t take long.

He tapped a fork against his glass. The table quieted down.

“I know Mom already thanked you all for coming and shared her gratitude with the Haywoods for their contribution to my father’s funeral, but that’s not the only reason we’re here. I’ve been working with the mayor’s office on a special project.”

Mayor Thomas—a white man in his fifties who’d been invited to the dinner despite not being from one of Yarrow’s founding families—sputtered, face red. “I didn’t know we were going to be talking about this here.” He rubbed his hands against his napkin and glanced first at Maura, then Irene.