I nodded.
His voice remained steady.
“In the event that Margaret Brooks is removed, denied access, or pressured to surrender possession of the property, every claim made by a resident occupant shall be terminated, and immediate possession shall return to Margaret Brooks.”
Vanessa’s eyes snapped toward Daniel.
“You told me she was leaving voluntarily.”
Daniel looked at her.
“I said I was handling it.”
“You told me the house was ours.”
“I never said—”
“You said her name wasn’t on anything.”
The sentence landed harder than the rain.
Daniel went silent.
Leonard placed the document back inside the folder.
“Mrs. Brooks, the clause is not the only matter requiring attention.”
He removed a smaller envelope.
This one was addressed in Aunt Evelyn’s handwriting.
My name was written across the front.
I knew that handwriting immediately. The rounded letters. The heavy pressure on the first stroke of every M.
I reached for the envelope, but my fingers were too stiff.
Leonard handed it to me.
The paper was dry.
I looked at Daniel.
He had become very still.
“Did you know about this?” I asked.
“No.”
Vanessa turned on him.
“You knew something.”
“I knew Evelyn had a lawyer.”
“You told me she left nothing.”
“I didn’t know what was in the estate.”
“But you made the calls.”
Daniel looked away.
A coldness moved through me that had nothing to do with the rain.
“What calls?”
Neither of them answered.
Leonard’s expression changed.
“Mrs. Brooks, your aunt’s office records show that someone identifying himself as Daniel Brooks contacted her nursing facility two weeks before her death.”
Daniel’s face tightened.
“I was trying to understand her finances.”
“You told them your mother was unable to manage the property,” Leonard said.
