Colin’s rental car pulled into the gravel drive just after noon, with Heather in the passenger seat and the children asleep in the back. He tried his key, and it would not turn. A young woman in a gardening hat opened the door, smiling politely. “Can I help you?” she asked. Colin stared past her at the unfamiliar sofa in the hall and whispered, “That’s my family’s home.” Heather’s face went white.

The young woman, Mrs. Whitaker, held out a small cream envelope. “Your mother left this for you,” she said gently. Colin tore it open with shaking hands, and Heather read over his shoulder. Inside were a copy of the deed, the closing statement, and a note in my handwriting. When Heather reached the last line, she gasped. “Colin,” she whispered, “she says the real surprise is waiting at the lawyer’s office.”