Melanie’s boots scraped violently against the floor as they dragged her away.

Her muffled curses faded down the sterile hospital corridor.

I took a shaky breath, clutching the thin fabric of my hospital gown.

Wyatt sat on the edge of my bed and took my hand in his.

“Are you okay, Sadie?” he asked.

I nodded, though my heart was hammering against my ribs.

We turned our attention back to Arthur Bennett.

The old man looked incredibly pale, his thin shoulders trembling under the hospital blanket.

“They wanted the key,” Arthur whispered, his voice cracking with age and exhaustion.

“The key to the lockbox?” Harper asked, pulling out a small notebook.

“Yes,” Arthur said. “Thomas Davis gave it to me before he died.”

Thomas Davis was my grandfather.

He was the one who had built the family real estate business from nothing.

“What is inside the box, Arthur?” I asked.

Arthur looked at me, his eyes filled with a deep, quiet sadness.

“The real will, Sadie,” he said. “The one your parents tried to pretend never existed.”

I stared at him, the cold hospital air suddenly feeling much heavier.