I kept my voice calm. “Read it out loud, Patricia,” I said. Her hands shook as she pulled out a single page and a small brass key. It was the spare key to my house, the one she had copied without asking two years ago. Ethan snatched his own envelope and tore it open. Color drained from his face as he read the first line.

“What is this?” he whispered. Patricia shoved her chair back so hard it scraped across the floor. “She has no right,” she snapped, pointing at me. “That house belongs to my son!” I smiled and slid a third paper from beneath my napkin. “Actually,” I said, “let’s talk about whose name is on the deed.” Then the front door clicked, and someone walked in.