Out of the black sedan stepped two people: Leon Abernathy, my grandparents’ estate attorney for thirty years, and Detective Elena Voss from the county’s financial crimes unit. Mom’s grin slipped. Dad took a step back off the porch. Mr. Abernathy walked straight past the moving truck, set his briefcase on my dining table, and opened it without a word.

“This house was never part of the estate,” he said evenly. “Your parents placed it in an irrevocable trust for Holly four years before they died. No debt could ever touch it. The members of this family just never asked.” Marisa’s face went pale. The movers went silent. Detective Voss was looking at the man in the expensive suit. “Hello again, Mr. Kessler,” she said. “I see you’re still pretending to be a lawyer. That’s a felony in this state.”