Rebecca stared at the last document. “Why is the building in my name?”

“Mr. Mercer bought it years ago to keep the tenants from being displaced. He transferred it to a community housing trust this morning. Your name appears only as an independent trustee, should you accept.”

“He didn’t give me the building.”

“No. He gave it to the families living there.”

At the bottom of the envelope lay a handwritten note.

Rebecca, I wanted proof that love could survive the truth, but I did not understand that love cannot survive without it. You were right. Fear is still control, even when it calls itself protection.