The glass was still ringing across the marble when Mr. Pruitt continued reading. Douglas had transferred his controlling shares to me, sixty percent of the company, signed and witnessed in August. Gasps rolled through the ballroom. Camille shot to her feet, her face twisting. “That’s forged! She manipulated him while he was dying!” The board members stared at her in silence, and her husband slowly let go of her arm.

Mr. Pruitt lifted a second envelope. “Douglas expected you to say exactly that, Camille,” he said calmly. “So he left something for you too.” He turned to a man standing at the back of the room, and I recognized the doctor who had treated Douglas in his final year. Then Mr. Pruitt looked at Camille and said, “Before I open this, I suggest you sit down.”