Martha Hayward’s porch was piled high with boxes, and she had one taped up and marked PHOENIX before I was even out of the car.

She didn’t look up from the tape gun.

“Robert says you’ve hired a woman who goes to court for a living.”

“Clare Vance. She’s very good.”

“Good costs a lot of money, honey.”

“So does losing, Mama.”

Martha bit her bottom lip and smoothed the tape with her thumb, twice, well past the point where it needed it.

“Your grandmother wasn’t always clear about who owned what, Diana.”