“Your father called my office yesterday afternoon.

He told my clerk that you were overwhelmed by grief and had authorized him to manage and liquidate the estate.

My office refused to accept his word without written proof.

But I want you to hear the important part, Adeline.

He called yesterday.”

My fingers tightened around the phone until they ached.

Yesterday. Not this morning, in some confused rush of misplaced concern.

Yesterday, deliberately, before he ever put a key in my door.