"Thank you for your kind offer, but I don't think it's necessary," Debra sighed, setting her glass down. "Honestly, whether the Nichols family stays intact or not doesn't matter much to me." She got up and headed toward the door.

Andrew called after her, "I thought you weren't interested in the funeral."

"I'll just take a look." Debra grabbed a mask and slipped it on.

The funeral for Shelia was grand, and she could blend into the crowd easily.

Andrew turned to Barton. "Give her my invitation."

"Yes, sir." Barton pulled the funeral invitation from his pocket and handed it to Debra. She glanced at it and raised an eyebrow. "Now you can't deny you've planned this." Clearly, Andrew had been waiting for this moment.

Without another word, Debra turned and left the house.

Barton spoke. "Sir, it seems Mrs. Houston doesn't want to spread the rumors."

"We'll help her," Andrew said.

disinterest in such things. She wasn't the type to

wouldn't let herself get taken advantage of, a

just vacated. He picked up the coffee on the table and asked,

on his coffee. "Someone else is paving the

brows

some vinegar earlier." At the cemetery, the scene

wore a

her face, her figure wrapped in a black

arrangements.

the guests had already gathered, and most of the media

Shelia's portrait, but

what

might have had a bright future. With Juan's support, she could have studied abroad, returned to

that kind of person. She was greedy, ruthless and solely focused on

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