Chapter 6

The estate records were kept in a lawyer's conference room, three days after Wren filed her motion. The room was wood-paneled, quiet, the table worn smooth by decades of hands. Ellis, the estate manager, had produced the key without argument once the court order was presented.

Wren sat at the table with Marcus at her side. Across from her, Dorothy sat rigid, a glass of water untouched in front of her, her gold bangles silent against the wood. Rosalind stood behind her, cream blazer pressed, copper hair caught in a barrette, face carefully blank.

The file was thin. A manila folder, the edges worn, a single word on the tab: SEALED.

Marcus opened it. Wren leaned forward.

There was a single page, typed, official, with a date and a stamp. She read it three times. The words didn't change.