My grief did not vanish.

But my anger solidified, into something heavy, and cold, and razor-sharp.

Chapter 15 — The Filing

I slowly folded the letter, placed it inside my pocket, and stood up.

“Your father’s memory deserves more respect than this, Julian,” I said, and my voice came out surprisingly steady.

Julian let out a cruel, barking laugh.

“My father was a senile old man, manipulated by a gold-digger in a nursing home.

You think that because you played a few games of chess and signed a justice-of-the-peace certificate, you’re entitled to a single dime of the Vance estate?