“They need to see who actually owns the land under their feet.”

I turned and walked back into the quiet warmth of the library, the stone floor cool under my shoes.

I stepped up to my father’s heavy desk, opened the small brass latch of the polished mahogany chest on the corner, put the finalized default decrees inside, and closed the lid.

Samuel set the blue estate folder on the mahogany table and adjusted his reading glasses.

“The head caterer called from town at seven this morning,” Samuel said.