Evelyn turned to look at me, her lower lip pressed tight as she looked at the printed numbers on the page.

“Claire, this is too much money,” she whispered.

“Grandmother spent forty years making sure her inheritance was passed down without losing a single dollar,” I said, covering her hand with mine.

“She wanted us to be safe in our own homes.

Now you are.”

Evelyn touched the pen to the paper and signed her name in clear, flowing cursive on the three highlighted lines.

Arthur stamped each page with his official notary seal, squared the papers into a neat stack, and locked the original file in his fireproof drawer.