“It is destroying the Mercers,” I corrected. “The Whitakers are doing just fine.”

Margaret winced slightly, then took a step closer to me.

“I want to make this right, Nora,” she said. “For you.”

She looked up at the high ceiling of the foyer, then out toward the darkened drawing room.

“You always loved Darrow House,” she said softly. “You spent your first wedding anniversary here.”

“I remember,” I said. “I also remember paying the property taxes when Grant’s accounts were frozen.”

Margaret ignored the jab, her eyes lock on mine.

“I am prepared to give you the deed,” she said.

I stood perfectly still, watching her.

“The entire estate,” Margaret continued, her voice gaining confidence. “Free and clear. It will be yours, solely in your name.”

“And what do you want in exchange, Margaret?” I asked.

“You must instruct Whitaker Family Capital to withdraw the embezzlement complaints,” she said. “And the civil suits against Grant.”

She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small, folded document.

“I have the preliminary transfer papers here,” she said, holding them out. “We can sign them tonight.”