“Your father will be home at six.

Go and sit down.”

By half past six, Martha had set five ceramic dinner plates around the dark oak dining table.

Arthur sat at the head of the table with his reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, scanning a blue folder Julian had laid next to his napkin.

“This room release form is standard,” Arthur said, tapping the bottom line with his thumb.

“It just acknowledges that Julian has temporary operational control of the master suite and the main office while his firm handles the regional estate accounts.”