“Actually, Richard, I have all the standing I need,” Arthur said.

I stepped forward and placed the blue folder on the coffee table.

“We know what you did,” I said.

My father looked at the blue folder, his eyes narrowing.

My mother’s hand trembled slightly as she reached for her teacup again, then stopped.

“We have the original will,” I said, looking my father in the eye. “The real one.”

“The one you tried to destroy.”

The room went completely still, the only sound the steady drip of rain against the windowpane.

My father stepped toward the table, his hand reaching out.

At that moment, the front door behind us rattled.

Brandon’s voice called out, panicked and breathless.

“Dad? Mom? Are you there?”

The door slammed shut, and Brandon stumbled into the foyer, his jacket torn and his face pale.

He stopped dead when he saw us, his eyes darting from me to the blue folder on the table.

“They found me,” Brandon whispered, his voice shaking.

“The people from the casino. They know where we live.”