“I found these in the filing drawer in Dad’s home office while he was out at the bank,” Ethan said quietly.

He laid the yellow folders on my lap.

I slid off the rubber bands and opened the top file.

Inside were crisp white demand letters from the trust administrator, laying out delinquent account fees and warnings about unauthorized overdrafts, all mailed over the last eighteen months.

“There are seven yellow folders altogether,” Ethan said, turning the silver ring with the notched crest that our grandfather had left him.

“Each one holds three months’ worth of notices that were mailed to Mom and Dad.”