I reached into my clutch purse and touched the edge of the cream paper Clare had just tucked inside.

The paper was dry and thin, but the faded blue ink carried more authority than any document my father had ever filed at the county courthouse.

“Did Marcus Vance say anything else about the trust papers before he left?” I asked David.

“He said the revocations were signed and recorded,” David replied.

“Gerald has no legal standing at all over Clare’s estate or yours.

If he tries to file another amendment, Marcus will have him in front of a probate judge by Tuesday.”