“It closes the estate dispute, shields the church land from outside lawsuits, and lets Tom leave the pulpit with his dignity intact.”

“Leave the folder on the table,” I said.

“I’ll read through it after lunch.”

Arthur hovered by the bedside table a moment, his pinky twitching against his heavy gold signet ring.

Then he gave a polite bow of his head and walked out into the hall.

At eleven fifteen, Wade met me outside the nurses’ station with a leather messenger bag over his shoulder.

I handed him the white settlement folder Arthur had left on Margaret’s table.