“It doesn’t matter if he’s bluffing, Evelyn,” Julian said quietly.

“If Marjorie lies under oath, it becomes her word against a dead woman’s signature.”

“We need proof,” I said, staring at the floor.

“We need something that proves Marjorie signed that document willingly.”

“Or something that proves Graham is manipulating her.”

Julian sat down next to me, his brow furrowed in deep thought.

“Your grandmother kept diaries,” Julian said.

“She kept everything.”

“Where are her personal papers from that year?”

I closed my eyes, trying to picture the old house.

“The estate office,” I said.

“The rolltop desk in her study.”

“Marjorie never cleared that room out because she was afraid of what she might find.”

“It’s been locked since the funeral.”

Julian looked at me, a spark of resolve in his eyes.

“We need to go there,” he said.

“If there is any record of the trust’s alteration, it will be in that room.”

“We have to find it before Graham’s lawyers get a court order to seal the house.”

“They could do that as early as tomorrow,” I realized.

“Yes,” Julian said, standing up.