I went back into the silent house and found Patrick standing in the dining room with yet another cardboard box.

He had yanked open the drawers of Mom’s antique bureau and strewn legal papers and utility receipts all over the table.

“Cassie, be sensible and give me that container so we can wrap up this estate,” Patrick insisted, holding out his hand.

“Get your hands off my mother’s personal business this very second,” I ordered, stepping in between him and the bureau.

He put on his most condescending, gentle smile and moved toward me with an open palm.