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“Clawdia was her mother.” I shake my head. “All those years Kitty spent trying to earn her approval, and in the end Clawdia was willing to destroy her career to save her own.”

That woman was ice cold, Fish thinks.

Murder is colder, Duchess counters.

Sherlock looks up at me. Can I have a cookie?

“Absolutely,” I tell him. “You can have two. You did great.”

Sherlock bolts off toward the dessert table, and I don’t stop him.

Jasper slips his arm around me as I lean into him.

“You can feel bad for the daughter she should’ve loved,” he says quietly. “But you don’t have to feel bad for the killer she became.”

I nod up at him. “I agree.”

“Vampyra’s husband checked out, by the way,” Jasper says. “Cardiomyopathy. The autopsy confirmed it twelve years ago. Clawdia was threatening to reopen a case that was never a case to begin with.” He pauses. “Leo found the raw documentary footage, too. Kitty had the hard drive in her hotel room. Looks like she took it from Clawdia’s room the night she killed her.”

“And Morticia?” I’m almost afraid to ask.

“She was caught on camera talking about convention money that never made it to the convention.” His mouth tightens. “The DA’s going to be busy.”

Well, that explains the thought I caught from Morticia the night Clawdia died.

She wasn’t grieving.

She was balancing the books.

“Jasper, I want to make sure Kitty has access to a good psychiatrist,” I say, and my voice breaks slightly. “Even if I have to pitch in for that myself. As a mother and a daughter⁠—”

“Say no more. Consider it done.” Jasper lands a kiss to the top of my head.

And suddenly I need my daughter with an urgency that catches me off guard. She’s right here on the grounds, tucked away in a cottage with her grandparents, probably fighting sleep in her little vampire cape with contraband candy stuck to her cheeks.

Forget the party. I want my baby.

I want to scoop her up, breathe her in, and feel her warm little body settle against mine.

Kitty poured everything she’d never been brave enough to say into a letter, and Clawdia let an attorney answer for her. She didn’t have to fix the past. She didn’t even have to explain it. She only had to open the door to her daughter.

She couldn’t do that much. In fact, she was determined to ruin her.

I wipe a tear from my eye as my thoughts drift back to my baby girl.

“Hey.” Jasper’s voice drops as he brushes a strand of hair from my cheek. “Ella knows how much we love her. She’s known from the minute she got here.”

My throat tightens.

Of course he knows where my mind went. He doesn’t need my gift to read me. He never has.

“How about we make pancakes with her tomorrow morning? Chocolate chips, the whole nine syrupy yards.”

“It sounds perfect with one tiny exception. I might inadvertently burn down the cottage.” I’m not exactly known for my kitchen skills. “How about we have breakfast at the Country Cottage Café instead?”

“It sounds like the perfect way to start November.”

A sudden ruckus explodes just beyond the rave, and we turn to look.