“No,” I said, clutching the envelope against my chest. “But I have the will.”

“We need to get to my office,” Arthur said. “I have a safe there. We can review the document under the lights.”

The drive took twenty minutes through the blinding rain.

Neither of us spoke.

The heater blasted warm air, drying the damp fabric of my jeans, but I couldn’t stop shivering.

When we arrived at Arthur’s office, the building was completely dark.

We ran inside under his umbrella, our footsteps echoing in the quiet lobby.

Arthur unlocked his private office and turned on the desk lamp.

The warm glow illuminated the leather chairs and the rows of law books on the shelves.

I placed the envelope on the desk.

The red wax seal was still intact, showing the elegant ‘E’ my grandmother used for her correspondence.

“Do you want to open it?” Arthur asked, handing me a silver letter opener.

My hand was still shaking as I took the metal tool.

I slid it under the flap of the envelope and sliced it open.

Inside was a stack of thick, cream-colored paper.