Addison had never been to a funeral that had a guest list. The barn had been open since noon for people to pay their respects, but once it came time for the event itself, the venue only had so much capacity. The greeters at the door—“More like bouncers,” Maura said—had made that abundantly clear.

The exclusivity of it all had rankled her grams, but Addison hadn’t viewed it that way. Of course the entire town had turned out for Christian Durant’s funeral. Was it really so bad if his family wanted to create a sense of intimacy?

The room was filled with Kentucky’s elite—politicians, celebrities, industry leaders, and the Bonners themselves—it was no surprise to Addison that these people were in the family’s inner circle. That Sylvia considered the Haywoods a part of that spoke more to Addison of her gratitude toward her family than anything.

Her grams should be proud that she helped make all this possible. Because without bourbon, there’d be no Yarrow.

Every person who stopped to greet her was evidence of that.

In front of the Haywoods sat the Bakers—all except Harper, who’d taken a seat in the Haywood row with Quinn. Their matriarch, Elena Baker; her son, Casey, who ran the grocery; his wife, Susheila, who edited the Yarrow Gazette; and, of course, River.

Addison had done her best to keep her attention on anything but him, which meant responding to every one of her grandmother’s complaints.

Maura sat on Addison’s left with her arms crossed, her aura blooming with resentment and her eyes weighing each person who walked down the aisle. “If I’d known your mother was going to run off with him and not show up for this funeral, I’d never have put on this damned dress.”

“They’ll be here,” Addison said.

Maura let out a disgruntled huff.

“It’s fine, Grams,” Quinn said. “It’ll make Sylvia even more upset when she realizes that Kaden didn’t just show up with our family. He showed up late with our family.”

Maura settled farther into her seat. “Small mercies.”

“I’m a little surprised you came,” Addison said to Quinn.

“Kaden seems nice enough,” Quinn said.

“You accused him of murder.”

“I didn’t accuse him,” she said. “I simply suggested his disappearance from Yarrow the same summer my father died is highly suspicious.”

“You 100 percent accused him of murder,” Harper said.

Quinn waved a hand. “He may be my last chance to find out what my nightmares really mean.”

“I thought you wanted me to help you get rid of those nightmares,” Addison said.

“I do,” Quinn said. “But there’s magic in the tea leaves! A visitor! Weird memory shit! We can wait a little longer to sort through my trauma if it means I get some answers.”