A three AM phone call about a locked room changed everything

his eyes narrowing.

“That property is still in my name, and I will tie it up in probate for the next ten years before I let you have a square foot of it.”

I looked down at the manila folder in my lap and did not answer him.

The double doors of Courtroom Three clicked open, and a bailiff with a silver badge stood in the entryway, looking at his clipboard.continue reading …