“Thank you, Dad,” she said, the word *Dad* rolling off her tongue as if she had practiced it a hundred times in front of a mirror. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course I came,” he said, stepping into the parlor and looking around the room. “I wouldn’t miss the chance for us to finally talk.”

He sat down on the velvet sofa, leaning back and crossing his legs with an air of complete ownership.

I brought in the tray of coffee, setting it on the low table between us.

My hands were steady now, the adrenaline finally clearing my mind.

“We have a lot to discuss, Thomas,” I said, sitting in the armchair opposite him.

“We do,” he said, looking from me to Caroline, who sat in the smaller chair near the lamp, her right hand resting casually near her phone. “But let’s keep it simple. We’re family, after all.”

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a document, identical to the one Rebecca had sent, save for the lack of the notary’s seal.