“He’s going to ruin us, Caroline,” I said softly. “He already has.”

She wiped her eyes, took the silver pen from Blake’s hand, and bent over the table.

Her hand shook as she wrote her name on the line.

“Marcus Mercer is hereby stripped of his power of attorney,” Blake read aloud from the document.

Marcus lunged toward the table, but the deputy took a step forward, his hand resting near his belt.

Marcus stopped, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You’re signing away your own income, Caroline,” Marcus hissed. “You won’t see a dime from the timber lease.”

“There is no timber lease, Marcus,” Blake said. “Only a fraud.”

Blake signed his own name below Caroline’s.

“As the remaining active trustees, we officially designate the sole administration of the Mercer estate to our niece,” Blake said.

He looked at me and handed me the pen.

“Sign here,” Blake said.

I took the pen. The metal was cold against my fingers.

I wrote my name on the line, cementing my responsibility to the house and the ridge.

Marcus watched me, his jaw clenched so tight I could hear his teeth grind.