Marjorie let out a dry, humorless laugh.

“You think you are the only one who holds secrets in this town,” she said.

She walked over to the wall safe hidden behind the portrait of the first Caldwell patriarch.

She spun the dial quickly, her fingers moving with practiced ease.

The heavy iron door clicked open.

Inside, I could see stacks of old, yellowed envelopes tied with black ribbon.

“I have enough documentation in this safe to ruin the Whitcomb family three times over,” Marjorie said.

“The pastor will do exactly what I tell him to do, because he knows I can strip his family of their legacy in an afternoon.”

She patted the steel door of the safe before closing it with a heavy thud.

“That is my security, Evelyn,” she said. “And the ledger is yours. But today, we can trade.”

I looked at the blue document again. It was everything I had wanted for the last six months.

An end to the marriage. My grandmother’s ring secured. No endless court battles that would drain my remaining savings.