He got a text from his boss, expressing his sympathies, and after he answered it, noticed he also had one from Butterman, the lawyer. So the reading of the will was at nine tomorrow morning. That should be interesting.

* * *

Birdie cried all the way to her apartment, then went in to gather up the things they needed to take to the funeral home. She was still in tears when Emma knocked on the door and let herself in.

“It’s me!” she said, and tossed her purse on the sofa.

Birdie came out of her bedroom, red-eyed and glaring.

“Oh my God, honey! What’s wrong?”

“Hunt was at Mama’s house, and so was Cecil Mills. He’s changing the locks on the house. Hunt’s going to stay there to fix up the house before it’s put up for sale.”

Emma frowned. “Why does he think he has the right to change out locks and keep us out of our own mama’s house?”

Birdie turned on her with a vengeance. “Maybe because Mama sent for him? Maybe because Mama sent him a copy of her will and asked him to do it? Maybe because he doesn’t trust anyone not to steal things that don’t belong to them? Maybe because someone in our family already stole his college money from him, and he has no reason to believe we have morals or a conscience?”

Emma froze. “He told you that?”

“Not intentionally…I challenged him about it, and he just reminded me of what had already come to pass, thinking I already knew.”

“Jesus,” Emma muttered.

Birdie swiped at the tears on her face. “Who did it? And why, for the love of all that’s holy, would the rest of you protect a thief? I am so shocked and so hurt for him right now that I don’t really even want to look at you. Mama’s clothes are in a bag on the sofa. Take them and go.”

Emma picked up the sack. “Just so you know, there’s a reading of the will at Peanut Butterman’s office tomorrow morning. Nine a.m. We’re all supposed to be there,” she mumbled, and started out the door.

Birdie followed her, then slammed it shut behind her.

Emma flinched, and when she heard Birdie turn the lock, she swallowed past the lump in her throat. This wasn’t going to get better. Mama wasn’t here anymore to be the wall between them and Hunt. He didn’t have to play nice anymore.

She got back in her car and headed to the funeral home to give them the clothes. They still had to get through a funeral in some semblance of family unity—or not.

* * *

Ava woke up just after 3:00 p.m., trying to remember why today felt different, and then she remembered.

Hunt Knox came home, and Marjorie died.