“I, Genevieve Margaret Ashford, being of sound mind and body, do hereby revoke all previous testamentary documents and declare this to be my last will and testament.”

My eyes caught on a paragraph near the middle of the page.

“To my granddaughter, Cecily Anne Ashford, I bequeath 51 percent of my shares in Ashford Holdings, currently valued at approximately forty-seven million dollars, along with all voting rights associated therewith.”

I read it again. And again. Fifty-one percent. Controlling interest. The will continued:

“This bequest is made with full knowledge of my son Harold’s treatment of Cecily. She has been excluded, diminished, and denied opportunity—not for lack of ability, but for lack of support. Cecily is not slow. Cecily was abandoned. And I will not allow her father’s prejudice to continue after my death.”

A sound caught in my throat. Grandma had seen it all. She’d seen everything.