The passenger door opened, and Vivian stepped out into the rain.

She did not wait for the umbrella.

The wind caught her styled hair, flattening it against her skull in seconds.

“She is trying to call the house,” Arthur noted, gesturing to the phone in my lap.

“The house phones are disconnected,” I said. “I had the service transferred to a digital hold this morning.”

We turned onto the highway, heading north toward the suburbs.

The windshield wipers swept side to side, a steady, hypnotic rhythm.

“She will try to get into the safe,” Arthur said. “She knows what is in there.”

“She won’t get past the front door,” I said.

My phone buzzed.

Callum’s name appeared on the screen.

I did not answer.

I looked out the window at the gray waters of Lake Michigan.

For years, this family had treated me like an intruder in my own mother’s legacy.

They had taken her name, her patents, and her dignity.

Now, the law was stripping them bare.

We reached the gates of the Lake Forest estate forty minutes later.