What is going on? Had Brendan been deceiving her all along!?

Mrs. Engel was trying her best to comfort the distraught young woman. “Miss McKinnon, please calm down! You can’t just listen to something she said and immediately believe her, right? Why is whatever she said automatically real? Mr. Brighthall’s gunshot wound is real, you saw that. There was no lie about that!”

She was right. Brendan’s injury was real, or he would not have been so hurt he could not sleep. Henry’s sister could have lied just to gain forgiveness and sympathy.

And yet, Deirdre’s mind was in disarray. Any mood she had to stay in the shopping district was gone. She hailed a cab and quickly returned to the mansion.

She strode into the living room and found nobody there. She rose the stairs to where the study was, and right before she pushed the door open, she heard sounds—a conversation.

“Have you found our wanted person?”

“We’re close. The mole hides well, so it’s not easy to sniff them out for the time be