Ethan Sterling's world had developed a persistent, low-grade hum of wrongness. It was there in the quiet of his own apartment, in the space between business deals, in the echo of his sister's hollow voice on the phone. The official story, Lara's scheming, Alex's victimhood, Evelyn's dignified pain had settled like dust over their lives, but Ethan felt like he was breathing in particles of a lie.

It started with the memory he couldn't shake: Evelyn's face, bone-white and slick with panic, emerging from the pantry. "What if someone sees?" The party had been loud, but her fear had been a silent, high-pitched scream.