The words seemed to hang in the dusty air of the library.

“And the physical estate, including the lakefront property, to be held in trust for his granddaughter, Valerie,” Vale finished.

Miranda lunged toward the desk, her hands clawing at the paper.

Julian stepped between them, his broad frame blocking her path.

“Do not, Mother,” Julian said.

“It is a forgery!” Miranda screamed, her voice echoing off the high bookshelves. “They are trying to ruin us, Julian! Can you not see that? She is a maid! A thief!”

“She is Elias Cross’s granddaughter,” Julian said, his voice flat.

He looked at me, and for a moment, the distance between us vanished.

“And she has more right to be in this room than we do,” he said.

I felt the weight of the wax-sealed envelope in my hand.

“Julian,” I said, my voice steady. “You knew about this.”

He turned his head toward me, his grey eyes calm.

“I have been looking into the company accounts, Valerie,” he said.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black ledger.