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Ronan swept the torch over the inscription.
Raegan Williams
1954–1959
Rest in peace, darling child.
“That’s where my sister got her name.”
The beam shifted to her face. “Hell, Felicity. It’s a child’s grave.”
She took the flashlight from his hand and switched it off.
Darkness swallowed them whole.
Silence stretched between them.
“Right.” Ronan slowly set the spade on the ground and folded his arms. “Before we desecrate a little girl’s final resting place…” His gaze settled on her. “Care to tell me what the actual fuck we’re doing here?”
She sighed. “The night we escaped Falcon’s Watch, we ended up here in Narragansett.”
“That part I know.” The impatience had disappeared from his voice. “I still get cold thinking about you crossing the bay in the middle of the night.”
She rested a hand on his arm. “We survived.” Her gaze drifted to the little headstone. “What I never told you is that we didn’t just steal documents from the safe.”
His brow furrowed.
“We helped ourselves to some of Sergei’s money too.” A faint smile tugged at her lips. “And we buried it here.”
He stared at her. “Buried…” He cleared his throat. “How much money are we talking about?”
“About half a million dollars.”
He blinked.
“Raegan used her share to build a new life. Mine stayed exactly where we left it.” She nudged the grass with the toe of her boot. “I couldn’t bring myself to touch a cent of it.”
Ronan looked from the grave to her. “And now you can?”
She nodded once. “I finally have something worth spending it on.”
He held up both hands. “I don’t want a penny of it.”
“Of course not.” She smiled faintly. “It’s blood money. I have something else in mind.”
His expression softened, but he still eyed the ground. “You’re sure about this?”
“We’re not disturbing the grave itself.” She crouched beside the little headstone. “Just the marker. That’s why we chose this one. Smallest headstone in the cemetery, easy for two girls to move.”
She wedged the pry bar beneath the marble and carefully levered it free. Ronan stepped in, lifting the stone clear and setting it gently on the grass.
Ronan picked up the shovel. “How deep?”
“Thought I was digging.”
He scowled at her.
“Right. You’re the man. You’re digging. About a foot.”
