Then I entered the dining room.
They all looked up at once.
My mother rushed toward me immediately.
“Oh sweetheart,” she said with practiced concern. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m… trying,” I replied honestly.
My father gestured for me to sit.
“We’ve been worried about you.”
Marina squeezed my hand gently.
“We’re here for you.”
I sat and watched them rearrange their expressions into sympathy.
My father leaned forward.
“Claire, we need to talk about practical matters. Estate matters. You shouldn’t deal with this alone.”
My mother nodded.
“You’re grieving. Let us take care of things.”
Marina added, “Gideon’s finances are complicated. Manhattan property especially. People could take advantage of you.”
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