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the lawyer announced Mr. Thurwell had died. He was in shock. He had not understood what was to happen tomorrow, all he knew was that his boss was dead, and he was out of work. Right before the annual bonus was to be paid.
    Dennis had been counting on his bonus, because he’d already spent it. Now he worried there may not even be a next paycheck and the thought terrified him. It would be much later in the evening before he learned from his wife that they would share in the Old Man’s wealth. For now, Dennis moped as he listened to his wife talk nonsense with a pretty French girl.
    $
    William locked away his laptop in the office safe. He had nothing else to do until morning. His guests would be dealing with the news of Thurwell’s death and the opportunity it presented them. He regretted that more guests would be interested in how much the Old Man had been worth than would grieve for his employer.
    The lawyer could relax until the next session, or try to. While he felt some relief at having broken the news of the Old Man’s passing, it was overshadowed by the daunting task of steering the group through the Danse as they decided how to carve up the fortune. He feared the outcome would be messy and unpleasant. By the time it was over, William would be shocked at how optimistic even this gloomy prediction had been.
    He checked everything was secure and switched off his lights. He would get an early night. If the others were wise, they would do the same. Tomorrow promised to be a long day.

Chapter Five
    T he sun rose at 6.18 a.m., but the dawn sun could only lighten the sky to a pale gray to distinguish the transition from night to day. The mansion’s windows looked out on heavy snow that had not abated all night. All the guests were awake. A few had slept well and some only a little. One had not slept at all.
    Bethany hugged herself as she stood by her open window with a light shawl draped over her slender shoulders. She shivered as she stared out into the woods and relentless thoughts of her father spun through her mind. She had been at the window a long time, and her bare toes were bone white and bloodless, but Bethany felt nothing. She had been numb inside and out since William Bird announced her father’s death. Philip had brought her up to her room around midnight. He offered to stay with her, but she wanted to be alone, so he had left in search of someone to share a drink with.
    Bethany felt no eagerness to see the strangers gathered like vultures over her father’s body, she had no stomach for it. She wanted to curl up in a ball and cry the pain away, to allow painful catharsis to envelop her. She recalled William’s instructions about today and knew instead that she had to move and get ready for the day.
    She had opened the window to let the chill morning air snap her out of her grief, but it had not moved her. Instead, she recalled a happy moment when her father took a twelve-year old Bethany skating on the frozen lake. Both of them had laughed like children as they enjoyed sharp cold on their cheeks and the sound of the ice under their skates.
    That morning her father took a break to watch her skate and moved to the tree line on the shore. She had not noticed his absence at first, caught up in the pleasure of the moment. When she looked up and found him gone, she had panicked, fearing the ice had cracked, and he had gone under. He saw her panic and stepped forward, calling her name. She had berated him all the way back to the mansion for leaving her alone on the ice and giving her a scare.
    Now, years later, her tears flowed as she recalled making him promise never to leave her again. He had broken his promise and this time he had left her forever. In his place was an open wound in her soul because he hadn’t wanted her with him at the end.
    A flicker of anger sparked in Bethany, she felt the heat of it in her frozen breast. He had rejected her and left her to discover his passing in a hurtful, humiliating and