Gerald cleared his throat and slid a second page toward Daniel. “Son, I believe you should read this one yourself.” Daniel picked it up, and as his eyes moved down the lines, the color drained from his face. He looked at his mother, then at me, then at his mother again. “Mom,” he said, his voice barely working, “you told me Dad left everything to you.” Margaret said nothing. Her hand began to tremble against the table.

“Walter amended his will nine years ago,” Gerald said evenly. “Margaret was given lifetime residence in this house, nothing more. The mansion, the land, and the family investments were placed in a trust for Daniel.” Then he turned to me. “But there is a second clause naming a person who must be protected if she is ever forced out.” Margaret’s chair scraped backward. “He could not have known her,” she hissed. Gerald held up a photograph of a young girl with my eyes.