“He trusted me to handle the heavy financial lifting while you made his soup.”

He slapped the blue tax folder into my hands.

“Take these back to the house and stop creating drama before the funeral bills are settled,” he said.

“He gave me the safe key, Julian,” I said gently.

Julian stopped with his hand on the brass door lever.

He glared down at me, his lip tightening until his face went completely pale.

“That key belongs to the estate executor,” he said, turning the latch and stepping inside without another word.