The door to the narrow storage closet was locked.

Grant had always kept tax paperwork there and told me the boxes were too heavy to move.

I had never liked that he treated my curiosity as interference.

I didn’t try to break into it.

I photographed the lock and emailed Caroline, asking whether any estate records mentioned it.

Then I changed my own passwords, gathered my personal identification, and made copies of the account statements I could lawfully access.

At midnight I received Grant’s first message: You embarrassed me in front of Olivia.