A sudden flare of anger warmed my chest.

“He was sharp as a tack until the day he closed his eyes,” I said.

“He beat me at chess three nights before he died.

There was nothing wrong with that man’s mind.” “I know,” Mr.

Sterling said, softly.

“I have his legal capacity evaluations on file.

Harrison was entirely lucid, and I can prove it.

But that,” he said, nodding at the envelope, “is not what this is.