She tapped her silver-tipped cane twice on the parquet floor.

“There’s a condition, Lauren,” Margaret said.

“To draw this money without a board delay, you have to give up your future claim to the Cape Cod summer house.”

I looked at the framed photo of the quiet porch overlooking the water that hung by the hallway door.

“Sign the release,” I said.

Margaret signed her name in tight, careful cursive across the bottom line.

“Money is just paper until it secures your position,” Margaret said, capping her pen.