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He inches back, not pushing me away, but I can feel the way his body tenses in surprise.

“Thank you,” I whisper into his chest.

“We need to talk about something,”Julian tells me on the drive home.

I glance up from my phone, raising a brow. “Yeah?”

“What do you want to do with your dad’s body?”

I wince, shrinking back in the seat. “Geesh, can you say it any colder?”

He works his jaw. “You can’t expect me to respect a man who did what he did.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, understanding his feelings. I should feel the same way, but deep down, I keep remembering my father’s good traits.

“If we have a funeral, will it be a shit show?” I ask.

“Most likely, yes.”

“Can we do a private one then?”

“Genesis, welcome to your new world. Where, for the right price, you can do anything you want.”

It’s not very oftenthat you turn on the local news, and you’re the topic of conversation.

“The FBI brought Genesis Astor in for questioning, and she’s fully cooperated with us,” Cliff Sikes, New York’s top prosecutor, states, looking deep into the camera. “We’ve investigated her, and we can confidently say she knew nothing about her father’s fraud. She’s also offered to turn over personal belongings to repay the victims Carlisle Astor stole from.”

Derrick stands behind Cliff, clad in the same FBI jacket and hat, and nods along with his every word. Cliff had introduced him as Agent Green at the beginning of his speech.

Reporters scream question after question at him.

“What about her mother?” one asks. “Does Genesis know where she is?”

“We’ve yet to locate Diana Astor,” Cliff replies.

“Doesn’t that prove she’s guilty?” the same reporter questions.

“That proves she needs to get in touch with us ASAP before we start assuming that.”

I can tell from the cynical expression on his face that he fully believes my mother is guilty.

I turn down the volume on the TV and immediately call my mother.

“Hello?” she answers, surprising me.

Though, since I recently got a new number so reporters would stop calling me, she probably didn’t know it was me.

“Mom,” I breathe out. “Have you been watching the news? Youneedto talk to the Feds before you get arrested.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” she huffs out.

“Do youwantto go to prison?”

“Oh, sweetie.” Her tone turns so patronizing that I debate hanging up on her. “I have no intention of returning to the United States.”

“How do you plan to live out of the country with no money?” After the question leaves my mouth, I realize how stupid it was.

“You don’t think we made sure I was situated financially before I fled?”