“Sign next to the highlighted line,” she said.

“On all three copies.”

Wyatt stood at the far end of the counter, fiddling with his gold cufflink.

The probate judge, a small woman with reading glasses hanging on a chain, kept an eye on both of us.

“Mrs.

Palmer,” the judge said.

“You’re accepting full ownership of Palmer Crest Holdings and the Blue Harbor parcel, valued at thirty-eight million dollars.”

“Yes, I am, Your Honor.”