Three and a half years ago, she’d written a letter to Essie sharing lots of things about her life, including losing her dad. The author invited her to an interview out of the blue and told Liv she reminded her of someone. Years later, when they’d had afternoon tea together, Essie studied her napkin when Liv mentioned her dad. She’d mistaken the author’s gaze as distraction. Had she been recalling old memories instead? Had Essie really been lying to Liv all the time she’d been working for her?

But why?

Unless...

Blood rushed to Liv’s brain. “What are you inferring?” she demanded.

“I think the striped tie you wear belonged to your father,” Anthony said. “When I was looking at the old photos, I noticed lots of the university professors wore them. Burgundy-and-yellow stripes. Where did you find it?”

“In Essie’s wardrobe,” Liv spluttered. She took it out of her pocket and examined the worn fabric. “Lots of people wear striped ties.”

Anthony took a deep breath. “Just before Essie died, she said there was only one man she ever really loved,” he said. “My ears pricked. I thought she meant me. I asked myself why she’d leave her cleaner such a monumental task, and for her death to be kept a secret...”

Liv clenched her fists. “I kept asking myself the same thing. You know I did.”

“It’s because you’re Grant’s daughter.”

Liv sprang out of her chair, knocking it over. “That doesn’t make sense. You lied about the proviso in her will, and now you’re lying about this,” she barked. “Where’s the evidence? You have a tie that could belong to anyone, and some cuff links Essie didn’t give to you.”

“I found a video on YouTube, from the Constellation after-party—”

“I’ve seen it. There’s only one film and it’s nothing.”

“Did you watch it all the way to the end?” he said.

Liv’s scalp prickled. She felt dizzy and then nauseous. She picked up her chair and sat down again, slumping forward. “I didn’t need to. I stopped it partway through.”

Anthony stood up and clutched his briefcase. “Should I send you the link again?” he said quietly. “There’s something you should see.”

“Get out,” Liv yelled, gripping the edge of the table to stop herself from lunging forward. “Get out.”

Anthony hurried out of the room. She heard the front door open.

Liv followed him along the hallway, squeezing the key in her hand. “Why six months?” she called after him. “Why did you insist we follow her last wish through?”

Anthony paused in the doorway, his face in the shadows. “Because when someone you’ve loved for a lifetime asks you to do something for them, you promise to do it. No matter how big or how strange it seems. Essie was dying. She thought you could finish her novel.”