The call comes on our last day in Greece.
Patricia from the hospice. Voice gentle. Professional. "Ms. Carter, I wanted to let you know that Victoria Brooks passed away peacefully this morning. She was surrounded by staff. No pain. She simply went to sleep and didn't wake up."
Victoria's been dead for months. We already had this conversation. Already went through the will, the trust fund, the funeral.
"I think you have the wrong number," I say. "Victoria died four months ago."
"I'm so sorry, you're absolutely right. I was going through old contacts and, I apologize for the confusion."
She hangs up. But the call unsettles me anyway. Reminds me that Victoria existed. That she died. That her death changed things even though she'd already done her worst while alive.
Liam finds me on the b
