One bite of salmon exposed my husband’s affair, his murder plot, and the truth about the mother I was told had died...

Celeste was a mess of tears and smudged mascara.

She sat in a different interrogation room, wrapped in a coarse police blanket that clashed violently with her silk robe. She had been crying for hours, playing the victim, playing the traumatized sister.

But when the door opened, it wasn't a detective who walked in.

It was Eleanor.

The police officer standing guard outside simply closed the door, leaving them alone. Marcus had a way of buying privacy, even in a police precinct.

Celeste looked up. All the breath left her lungs. She pressed herself against the back of the metal chair, her eyes wide with absolute terror. “Mom?” she squeaked.

Eleanor did not sit. She stood at the head of the table, looking down at the daughter she had wept for, the daughter she had watched grow up from the shadows.

“You helped a man try to murder your sister,” Eleanor said. There was no motherly warmth in her voice. It was the voice of a judge delivering a sentence.

“No!” Celeste sobbed, reaching out. “Mom, you don't understand! Reed told me she was sick anyway! He said her heart was failing, that she only had a few months left! He said if we didn't take control, the board would force her out and take everything from us!”

“And you believed him?” Eleanor’s voice snapped like a whip. “You believed the man who was sleeping in your sister’s bed while whispering lies into your ear?”

“I love him!” Celeste cried defensively. “He saw me, Mom! Not just Maren. Everyone always looked at Maren. You left everything to Maren! Dad trusted Maren! Reed was the only one who saw me!”

Eleanor felt a sickening twist of failure in her gut, but she pushed it down. “He didn't see you, Celeste. He saw a weapon. A weak, jealous, malleable weapon to use against Maren.”

Eleanor tossed a sleek black folder onto the table. It slapped against the metal loudly.

“What is this?” Celeste sniffled.

“That is the transcript of Reed’s conversation with his lawyer, recorded twenty minutes ago,” Eleanor lied smoothly. It was actually a deep-fake audio compilation Marcus had whipped up, but Celeste was too frantic to know the difference. “Read it.”

Celeste’s trembling fingers opened the folder. She read the highlighted transcripts.

Lawyer: What about the sister? She’s a liability. Reed: Pin it on her. She poured the oil. She's unstable, jealous of Maren’s success. I was just trying to protect my wife from her crazy sister.

Celeste’s face turned ashen. She dropped the papers as if they were burning her hands. “He wouldn't... he promised we’d go to Paris...”

“He is throwing you to the wolves to save his own skin,” Eleanor leaned in closer. “You have one chance to avoid spending the next thirty years in a federal penitentiary, Celeste. You will testify against him. You will hand over every text, every email, every recording you have of his plans.”

“If I do...” Celeste whispered, tears streaming down her face, “Will you forgive me?”

Eleanor looked at her youngest daughter. The betrayal was too deep, the wound too fresh.