It bore the signatures of my mother, Lila Wren, and Margaret Bell.

“Look at the clause on page three,” Denise whispered, pointing a shaking finger at the text.

“It states that in the event of Margaret’s death, the entire property reverts to Lila Wren and her heirs.”

“There is no mention of the Romano family or any sale.”

“This is the original, unaltered deed,” I said, a tear slipping down my cheek.

“She didn’t steal anything. She owned the whole place.”

“This proves you are the sole legal heir to the Marigold Room,” Denise said.

Before I could answer, the beam of a heavy flashlight cut through the dark corridor behind us.

The light blinded me, forcing me to shield my eyes with my hand.

“A very touching family reunion,” a voice drawled from the shadows.

Nico Romano stepped into the archway, holding a heavy black pistol in his right hand.

The cold metal of the weapon caught the faint yellow beam of Denise’s flashlight.

My heart hammered against my ribs, the leather folder heavy in my hands.