His secretary sat me in a chair and left.

Thomas came out with a green visor pushed up on his forehead.

He was thin, older than my father had been, and he held his reading glasses by one arm.

I laid the death certificate on his desk.

“You did my father’s estate planning.”

He didn’t touch the paper.

“Arthur’s daughter.” He said my name slowly, like a word he had to try out.

“I need to see the trust.”