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“My own personal bodyguard,” I say. “I feel like Whitney Houston.”

“Who’s Whitney Houston?” Bennett asks, his mouth full of croissant.

Autumn groans. “Next you’ll be telling me you don’t know who Kevin Costner is.”

“Of course I do. He’s the cowboy. In that old peoples’ program. My mom thinks he’s hot.”

Autumn stares at him. “Yellowstoneis not an old people’s program.”

“Tell that to my mom,” Bennett says, grinning. “She watches it with her wine and tells me she should have married a cowboy. Even though she hates the smell of horse shit in Central Park.”

I laugh, but Autumn tilts her head, curiosity sparking. “Do you miss her?” she asks.

“My mom? Sure.” He takes another bite of croissant.

“And your siblings? Them too?” God, she’s so nosy.

“I don’t have any. It was just me and Mom growing up. She didn’t really talk to my uncle for years, and her only sister died before I was born.”

Autumn blinks. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Bennett shrugs. “Hey, are you eating that other croissant?” he asks me.

“Go ahead.” I push it toward him, remembering I owe him bacon tax.

“Thanks.” He rips off a bit and devours it. “Anyway, I didn’t even know Leona. My mom though, she misses her something terrible.”

I blink. Leona. That name. It’s not a common one. My fingers tighten around my coffee cup.

“Leona was your aunt’s name?” I ask carefully, still trying to work it through in my head.

“Yeah. They used to call her Lennie growing up, but she didn’t like it. Same way I hated Benny, I guess.”

My throat feels tight. “When did you say she died?”

“I dunno. A few years before I was born. Four maybe.” He shrugs, completely oblivious as I do the math. He’s twenty-one. Four more years makes twenty-five.

The air seems to thin around me. West was twelve when she died. Around twenty-five years ago.

It has to be a coincidence. It has to be. But the thought prickles at me anyway, sharp and insistent.

“I could ask Uncle Vin, I guess,” Bennett adds, ripping off another piece of croissant. “Or West could. Because I’m not talking to my uncle right now. Not after the shit he pulled.”

“What shit?” My stomach twists tighter still.

Bennett shifts, his shoulders hunching. Suddenly he looks younger, uneasy. “I just… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, okay? He made me tell him.”

Autumn leans forward, her brows pinched. “What’s going on? I’m completely lost.”

My pulse kicks hard against my ribs. “Bennett?” My voice cracks. “What happened? What did your uncle do?”

He winces, eyes darting between us. “I let it slip about your marriage. That it started off as a sham. I’m sorry. He has a way of breaking me.” He swallows. “I assume that’s why West went to see him.”

Everything in my body turns cold, my hands tightening around my cup until the ceramic squeaks. “West is in a business meeting,” I say. “On the mainland. He’ll be back tonight.”

Bennett shifts, setting down the last of his croissant like even his stomach can’t take it. “Vin says they’re meeting today. In New York. He has an apartment there.”

I exchange glances with Autumn. My voice is flat as I tell her, “Vin is the money man. The one who gave the resort a bridge loan.”