“These are the routing numbers for the holding accounts in Luxembourg,” Julian said.

His voice was very quiet, almost a whisper.

“They match the private ledger Father kept in his desk at the office.”

He looked up at his mother, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“The one you told me was lost in the fire ten years ago,” Julian said.

Miranda did not answer him.

She stared at the red wax seal on the blue paper.

“The Swiss banks verified the signatures yesterday morning,” Nathaniel Vale said.

“The assets were never meant to pass to the Sterling holding company.”

Vale pointed to a specific line on the third page.

“Arthur Sterling designated seventy percent of the foundational stock to his sister’s line,” Vale said.

“That stock belongs to Valerie Cross.”

Julian looked at me, his eyes wide and searching.

I kept my hands folded in front of my apron.

“She is a maid, Julian,” Miranda said, her voice rising in pitch.

“Look at her.”

“She has been cleaning our floors for six months.”

“Do you honestly believe your father would leave the majority of our family’s wealth to a servant?”