“My mother was sick,” I said.

“Exactly,” Patricia said. “And she was in no state to make decisions about her own care, or her property.”

I felt a chill run down my spine.

The way Patricia said *care* made my stomach turn.

I looked at the grandfather clock in the corner.

It was past nine in the evening.

The bank would open at nine tomorrow morning.

Whatever my mother had hidden in that safety deposit box, it was the only thing that could stop them.

“We are leaving,” Patricia said, touching Mark’s arm. “We have a meeting with our own counsel at ten.”

Mark glared at me, his chest rising and falling.

“Think about my offer, Claire,” Mark said. “Five million, and I walk away. Otherwise, I ruin you.”

They turned and walked out of the room, leaving the door wide open.

The hallway outside was dark and quiet.

Thomas stepped closer to me, his face lined with deep worry.

“Claire,” Thomas said. “If Mark files those papers before we resolve the probate issue, Arthur’s trust clause will trigger automatically.”

“I know,” I said.