“According to the precise legal stipulations of your late wife,” Mr. Halden announced, his voice carrying a metallic edge that instantly silenced the murmuring crowd, “before the burial rites can commence, the last will and testament must be read.

Here. Before the congregation.” A collective, shuddering breath rippled through the mourners.

Evan scoffed, shaking his head. Celeste slid her hand back into the crook of his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Let the old men play their games, her body language sneered. Mr. Halden broke the wax seal on the envelope.

The paper rasped loudly in the dead quiet of the sanctuary.

He unfolded the document, cleared his throat, and read the first designation.

“To my mother, Margaret Ellis…”

Evan’s mocking smirk froze, then violently shattered, as the lawyer drew his next breath.