Chapter 72

Three days later, Blair sat in the back of an unmarked FBI surveillance van two blocks away from St. Matthew’s Cathedral, watching her own funeral on a small monitor. The irony wasn’t lost on her. If wasn’t so important what they were doing, she might have enjoyed it more. She could see the Gothic spires of the cathedral through the van’s tinted windows, and part of her wanted to be there. Not for the morbid thrill of watching people mourn her fake death, but because she wanted to support her sisters. Even through the grainy surveillance feed, she could see how pale Sutton looked in her black dress, how tightly Keira was gripping the flowers she was supposed to place on Blair’s empty casket. Even though they knew this was staged, it had to be hard on them. “Visual on all targets, agents are following Peter Warner. He is almost here.” Agent Rogers said from the front of the van, adjusting the surveillance equipment. “Roman’s in position in the front pew with your sisters.” Blair’s phone