I paused, my mind racing back through the years.

“When she passed, I moved all of her personal files into the attic,” I said. “They’re in her old green trunk.”

“Go look at them,” Lydia instructed. “Look for anything from the first decade of the foundation. I’ll hold off on calling the judge for another hour, but Evelyn, the clock is ticking.”

“I’ll call you back,” I said.

I hung up the phone and stood up, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I grabbed a flashlight from the desk drawer and walked out of the study, heading toward the narrow staircase that led to the attic.

The air in the attic was cool and smelled of cedar and old paper.

The storm outside seemed louder up here, the rain drumming fiercely against the sloping roof.

I shone the flashlight across the dusty floorboards until the beam landed on the dark green metal trunk in the corner.

I knelt in front of it, the cold brass latch biting into my fingers as I struggled to pop it open.

With a sharp click, the lock gave way.