Owen turned the page and read the final sentence aloud. The moment either joint owner barred the other from the workshop, full and sole title passed immediately to the surviving spouse. No further action was required. The reversion was automatic and already complete.

Cody stared at the will. The new key still sat in his pocket, suddenly useless. Owen closed the folder. “The workshop and everything inside it now belong entirely to your grandmother. The lock you installed does not change that. It only confirmed it.”

Nora looked at the young man Hank had taught to measure twice and cut once. She said only, “Your grandfather built that shop with his own hands. He left it to both of us so we would share it. You decided otherwise.” Then she stood, thanked Owen, and left the office without another word.

That afternoon a locksmith met her at the workshop door. The new padlock came off. Her old key turned in the original lock Hank had hung forty years earlier. She stepped inside, breathed in the familiar smell of sawdust and oil, and sat for a long time on the stool by the pegboard. The tools were still outlined in marker. The building was quiet. And it was hers again—exactly as Hank had arranged it would be if anyone ever tried to take it from her.