“Where?”
He pulled his sleeve free.
“Would you stop making this worse?”
The front gate clicked. Through the window, Clara saw Lily approaching with her overnight bag, home for the weekend. Ethan saw her too.
“Oh, perfect,” he said.
Lily hesitated in the doorway. Her gaze moved from the folder to Vanessa’s wet shoes, then settled on Clara.
“Gran?”
“Take the children down to the greenhouse, love. Help Maisie find the watering cans.”
Lily put down her bag without asking another question. As she passed Clara, she squeezed her wrist once.
Ethan waited until the children had gone.
“There’s a buyer,” he said. “And a deadline. If you sign the transfer, everything can still be settled.”
Vanessa sat down.
“A buyer for what?”
Ethan opened the folder. The top sheet bore a photograph of the cottage taken from the lane.
Clara recognized the roses she had pruned that spring.
“For this,” Vanessa whispered.
Miriam arrived while Ethan was explaining that selling the cottage would leave enough to buy somewhere smaller for Clara and somewhere suitable for his family. He spoke briskly, like a man rearranging furniture.
The lawyer left her coat on.
“Show me what you’ve promised.”
“This is a family discussion.”
“Clara asked me to attend.”
He slid the folder shut. Miriam did not reach for it.
“Ethan, a sale cannot proceed because you want it to. Who instructed the buyer’s solicitor?”
Vanessa pulled the folder toward herself before he could answer. Beneath the photograph lay a copy of a letter, then a document with Clara’s name beneath a signature.
Clara knew immediately it wasn’t hers.
The C was wrong. Too round, too careful. Her thumb went numb against the table edge.
“What is that?”
Ethan put his hand over the paper.
“An authorization. A formality.”
“I never authorized you.”
Miriam’s voice sharpened.
“Take your hand away.”
For several seconds, he did not move. Outside, Maisie laughed at something Lily had said. The sound reached the kitchen thinly through the glass.
Then Vanessa dragged the page free.
She read it twice.
“You said she couldn’t manage paperwork anymore.”
Clara stared at her.
“You knew about this?”
“He showed me a letter. From a doctor.”
Miriam held out her hand, and this time Vanessa passed her the folder.
