“What does it say?” she whispered.

“Your father knew what you and Charles were planning,” Mr. Vance said.

“He knew about your meetings with the regional developers from the city.”

“He knew about the shell company you set up in Delaware to transfer the timber rights.”

Charles looked down at his leather shoes, unable to meet anyone’s eye.

“We were just trying to save the business,” Charles muttered.

“You were trying to liquidate forty years of your father’s hard work for a quick payout,” Mr. Vance said.

“And he knew it.”

“So he made sure the estate would go to someone who actually cared about this valley.”

“Someone who helped him build it from the ground up.”

Victoria let out a sharp, bitter laugh that sounded like dry leaves scraping across concrete.

“He couldn’t leave her the house,” Victoria said, pointing a finger at me.

“The family covenant from 1910 says the land must stay with a blood relative.”

“We checked the deed.”

Mr. Vance turned a page of the blue document.

“The 1910 covenant was legally dissolved in 1985 when the holding company was restructured, Victoria,” Mr. Vance said.