Why does Zade wanting to kill a man over a sleazy comment most men would say make me want to repeat the favor he stole from me in my driveway? This time I’d be much more... willing. I hate him. “So, Adeline, about your great-grandmother. Gigi was a beautiful woman. Even as a little boy, I remember that clearly,” he continues. Climbing a mountain would take less energy than what it does to keep my eyes from rolling at his remark. That would be something Mark latched onto. Gigi was beautiful, but who the fuck cares about personalities, right? I clear my throat and paste on a smile. “Yes, she was.” Mark tips his head back, seeming to retreat into a memory. “Yeah, I remember her signature red lips. Don’t think I ever saw her without that lipstick on.” “Do you remember anything about her murder?” I ask, trying to keep the hope at bay. “T remember how absolutely devastated John was when he found her. Was in near hysterics, and it took my father hours to calm him down enough to tell him what happened.” “You said your father thought it was John, but do you think it could’ve been anyone else?” I press. I already know my great-grandfather freaked the hell out. There was a comment in the police report that they threatened to sedate him. What I really want to know is what his father knew about the case. Maybe he knew something that wasn’t in any of the files. He shrugs a shoulder. “From what I remember, he thinks that she was sneaking around on John—seeing some man. My father couldn’t seem to find out who it was, though, so it wasn’t something they looked into. But my father was almost certain that was the reason John snapped and killed Gigi.” I twist my lips, glancing at Zade to find him already staring at me with an unreadable expression. He’s skimmed through her diaries and knows she had a stalker. But it doesn’t seem that Mark or his father knew that, which doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. Gigi’s diaries were in a safe behind a picture. The police would have had no reason to believe she would be hiding something like that. I contemplate if I should divulge what I know. Maybe Mark would have some type of power to look into the diaries and see what he can find. But the second that thought enters, I boot it right back out. Mark isn’t a nice guy. And he would only lord those books over my head and lead me on. I’m positive I would never see them again if I handed them over. Besides, I’m confident Daya has many more ways to get information than Mark ever could. Mark’s father is presumably dead with the way he speaks about