Frank reached into his coat and put a plain envelope on my blanket.

Inside were photocopies of my birth certificate, insurance card, and the deed to the little bungalow I had inherited from my parents.

He had kept copies in the fireproof safe at his shop.

“The bungalow?” I whispered.

“I thought Colton sold it.”

Frank shook his head.

“He tried.

I refused to sign the caretaker paperwork he sent me.