They had no idea what I already knew about the million dollars they wanted.
And they definitely didn’t understand why I was the last person they should have asked for help.
PART 1
“We need one million dollars.”
My mother stood in the middle of my Manhattan penthouse as though she still had the authority to issue commands.
“And you’re going to give it to us,” she continued, “because Chloe is still your sister.”
Those were the first words Beatrice Vance had spoken to me in nineteen years.
No hello.
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