“They have been authenticated by the federal treasury,” Vale added.

I stepped closer to the desk, my uniform rustling in the quiet room.

The smell of wet wool and old paper filled the space between us.

Julian moved to his mother’s side, his eyes fixed on the blue-bound papers.

“Let me see those,” Julian said.

He reached out, his hand steady, and pulled the documents toward him.

Miranda tried to grab his wrist, but her fingers slipped off his sleeve.

“Julian, do not touch those,” she whispered.

“They are fabrications paid for by a disgruntled former employee.”

She pointed a trembling finger at my grandfather.

“Elias Cross was dismissed for a reason,” she said.

“He has spent forty years nursing a grudge.”

Elias did not look angry; he looked almost sorry for her.

“I was dismissed because I knew Arthur’s true wishes, Miranda,” Elias said.

“And because I knew where the original trust agreement was signed.”

Julian flipped the first page of the ledger open.

The light from the desk lamp shone on rows of typed figures and handwritten initials.