“I’m not signing anything,” I said.

“Nobody asked you to sign anything tonight.” He stood up.

“The soup is still hot.

Eat.”

Courtney carried two cups to the counter and poured tea from the pot I had left out that morning.

She slid one cup toward me.

Her acrylic nails tapped the rim twice.

“Charles always said the stock options would be worth something once the estate cleared,” she said.