Clara found a forged receipt for forty thousand dollars

a business partnership with,” Evelyn said.

I took the key back from her. The metal was cold, leaving a faint scent of iron and vinegar on my thumb.

“We have exactly seven days until the probate deadline,” I said.

“Then let’s go,” Evelyn said, reaching for her wool coat.

We drove down Cedar Road in silence, the early autumn chill pressing against the car continue reading …