Page 332 of Property of Whiskey

She looks at him.

“Not your fault.”

Her eyes fill. “I left.”

“You survived.”

“I left them.”

“You survived.”

He says it again, harder this time, like she needs the exact same words until they finally stick somewhere the guilt can’t reach.

I look away.

Not my moment.

Twila doesn’t. She watches Kaylee for another beat, then Bullet, and something thoughtful passes through her expression before she turns back toward Legend.

He continues. “Tech’s working the SIM card from Mercy House. Pike’s phones are being cloned. Sheriff’s people have his electronics too.”

Twila nods. “Daddy said Pike’s lawyer showed up fast.”

Royal leans back. “Whose lawyer?”

“Firm out of Lexington.”

Sophie’s head comes up. “Name?”

Twila tells her.

Sophie reaches for the stack of notes beside her and starts flipping pages.

“I’ve seen it.”

Royal mutters, “Course you have.”

She ignores him until she finds what she wants, then turns one page around.

“There.”

Same firm.

Not her father’s name directly. It appears beside a legal filing tied to one of the Montgomery-linked charitable transfers Sophie already traced.

Always a step removed. Sometimes two.

I pull the filing closer. Money, lawyers, charities, property. Different columns, same fucking trick. Put enough clean names between the cash and the rot and everybody gets to swear they never touched it.

Sophie looks down at the page. “My father’s money keeps landing near the same people.”

Legend starts, “Soph…”

She looks up. “No.”

He stops.

Whatever passes between them ain’t mine, but I recognize the shape of it. His urge to protect. Her refusal to be protected from information she has a right to see.