“Charlotte, thanks for coming.” The caramel-colored Pomeranian on her arm barks like we’ve never met before, and she gives him a little jiggle. “Dolly, hush. She’ll settle down once you’re inside. Can I get you something to drink?”

I give her the best smile I can muster. “I go by Charlie now.”

Diana seats me on an overstuffed chair in the sun porch, a glass-walled, terra-cotta-tiled room at the back of the house. Paul once told me this is why he became an architect, because of these cramped, low-ceilinged spaces connected by narrow hallways, every inch of it crammed with fussy antiques and complicated decor. It made him yearn for open spaces and clean lines, and I can see why. Even without the sun beating through the windows and Diana a few feet away in the kitchen, gathering refreshments, the room feels stuffy and oppressive.

“I just want to start by saying I’m sorry.” She settles a tray onto the table between us. Peppermint tea and raw honey and a porcelain plate piled with cookies she’ll never touch. “About Micah, I mean. What he did to you and Katherine. I had no idea he was that evil.”

She passes me a steaming cup, but I leave it on the table. “Like father, like son, I guess.”

“I suppose.” She sinks into her chair, scooping up the dog at her feet and settling it on her lap like a fuzzy pillow. “Still. I always thought those crazy stunts of Micah’s were some kind of...I don’t know...misguided attempt to prove his worth to his father—that man has never been nice, and you can quote me on that.” She strokes her dog with a hand, raking the fur with her fingernails. “It’s funny when you think about it. Micah spent his whole life trying to act so brave, when really he was a big ole scaredy-cat. Scared his daddy wouldn’t love him, scared of what people would think if they knew what he did. And in the end, scared to face up to his own sins. He took the coward’s way out. Of all the awful things he did, that one’s the worst.”

I don’t really know what to say to that, so I say nothing at all. I could point out her son lied, too, that he sat on secrets so monumental it cost him two wives, but Diana already knows these things. I press my lips together and wait for whatever it is she brought me here to say.

“Paul says you haven’t been to see him yet.”

“I’m not ready to talk to him.” I lift one shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.”