"I don't know either, Honey," Robyn said as she drew closer to Harold, hoping to share his warmth.
Harold eyed her coldly. "You were acting strange when Ainsley brought up her father's death. Did you have anything to do with it?"
Robyn shook her head frantically. "No! What could I have done? He was your brother, and as money-crazed as I am, I'd never stoop so low and kill another man for it!"
Harold assessed her for a long moment, and finally said with a smile, "You're right. You haven't done anything at all."
It was only then that Robyn felt like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around her husband as worry etched upon her face.
It was almost three o 'clock in the afternoon when Robyn went upstairs and woke Matteo up. "Hurry up and get to the living room. We have guests!"