“You were sleeping with Juliette in the guest house,” I said.

Mark’s eyes narrowed.

“Prove it,” he whispered.

“I don’t have to,” I said.

“You do,” Mark said. “Because if you don’t settle with me, I will drag your mother’s name through the mud in open court.”

He tapped his knuckles on the desk.

“I want five million dollars,” Mark said. “Or I take half the estate.”

My hand slipped into my coat pocket.

My fingers brushed against the cold metal of the brass key.

It was the key my mother had given me in secret, just weeks before she became too weak to speak.

She had whispered the name of the county bank and told me to keep the key hidden from everyone, especially Mark.

At the time, I hadn’t understood her fear.

Now, looking at Mark’s furious face, the pieces were beginning to fall into place.

I remembered how my mother’s mail had suddenly stopped arriving in her final months.

I remembered how Patricia had insisted on handling all the medical correspondence, claiming she wanted to spare me the stress.