Forgive me for keeping the truth from you during our short week together.

I needed to know that your kindness was genuine, unpolluted by the promise of wealth.

Now I know that it was.

The pull tab on your finger was a placeholder for a promise.

The red dress belonged to my late daughter, Lily; she was the light of my life, and losing her broke something in me that never mended.

The estate is yours, all of it.

But beware: my son Caleb knows that I am gone, and he will come for what he believes is his.