DEBORAH'S POV
My hand closed around the key so tightly that it left grooves in my palm. The will reading was over. The lawyer packed up his papers, gave everyone a sad little smile, and left us in that heavy, airless study. Victoria's husband kept glancing at the key, like it might explode and ruin the furniture. Victoria just watched me, trying to look kind and failing.
I couldn't stay in that house another second. "Victoria, I need your car."
She looked startled. "What for?"
"My car is back at Carnell's. Or towed. I don't care. I need to get somewhere now."
Victoria's hand drifted to her stomach. Her husband opened his mouth, but I cut him off with a look. "Please, Victoria."
She nodded, slow and graceful, the perfect hostess even in grief. "Of course. My dad will drive us," she said, glancing at Dominic for approval.
"Actually—" Dominic started, already taking charge, but Victoria's glare stopped him cold.
