Inside were two crystal glasses, a bottle of expensive vintage champagne, cured meats, and jars of specialty preserves.

I slid my thumb under the wax seal of the envelope and took out a single folded sheet of cream paper.

The typed note had Ethan’s signature at the bottom, written in the broad stroke of his silver fountain pen.

“Please accept this small token for your travel expenses and inconvenience,” the letter read.

Attached to the back of the paper was a cashier’s check made out to me for fifteen thousand dollars.

“We ask only that you enjoy a quiet dinner, keep past matters private, and leave gracefully before nine,” the letter went on.