And then the line that froze me, even though I had braced myself for it:

Parents: Gregory and Brenda Sterling. Estranged.

My coffee had gone cold long before I realized I’d stopped drinking it. I pushed the cup aside.

I knew he existed, of course. I hired the first investigator when Gregory disappeared with our money. By then, Brenda was already pregnant. I wanted to know where they went, what they did with Spencer’s retirement fund, with the emergency reserves, with the bonds meant for our grandchildren’s education.

We found them living comfortably in Seattle. Gregory working at an investment firm, using Spencer’s connections, using our name.

I shut that investigation down after Spencer’s funeral. There seemed little point after that.