Harold nodded. “She will be.”

At the time, I assumed they meant life insurance.

After Thomas died, grief turned paperwork into a blur. Lawyers mailed folders. Banks requested signatures. The company delivered succession and deferred-compensation documents.

Daniel handled nearly everything, insisting I shouldn’t worry about business while mourning.

“Dad arranged everything,” he assured me. “You’ll receive monthly income, and the rest stays invested.”

I believed him. I signed every page he marked with tabs — some about the house, some about the company — while he sat beside me with one reassuring hand over mine.