A three AM phone call about a locked room changed everything

table until it rested against my coffee cup.

“What is this?” I asked.

“It is the deed to the lake lot,” Alan said, his voice dropping to a confidential whisper. “I had my lawyer draw up the transfer papers yesterday. It is yours, Lily. No strings attached.”

I looked down at the paper. The gold seal of the notary was bright against the blue backing.

“Why continue reading …