“We have to talk about the budget, Dad,” Brandon said, laying the pad on the kitchen table.

He rubbed the back of his neck before pulling out one of the wooden chairs.

“Which budget would that be?” I asked, setting my morning coffee cup down on its saucer.

“The property upkeep,” Brandon said.

“We’ve been going over the estate’s yearly figures, and the numbers don’t add up.”

Melissa adjusted two heavy gold bracelets on her right wrist, and they clinked sharply against the counter.

“We can’t keep paying for the maintenance by ourselves,” she said.