Mom stared at the girls, then Ethan’s wedding ring, and finally mine. For someone who’d inspected the refrigerator so thoroughly, she’d overlooked plenty of details.
“You’re married?”
“Yes.” I placed my hand on Grace’s shoulder. “These are my stepdaughters. Daughters in every way that matters.”
“You didn’t tell me?” Mom asked, immediately adding, “What does Ryan know about this?”
“Whatever you told him.”
She regained her composure enough to insist Ethan should understand Ryan’s situation. A few months, perhaps a year. Surely we could accommodate them.
“No one is moving in,” I said. “Ryan needs to call his landlord.”
Mom looked to Ethan for support. He remained beside the girls as I pushed the envelope across the island.
She opened it and examined Dad’s trust document. Attached beneath his signature was an instruction: I wasn’t to be Ryan’s financial safety net, and any advances to him or his businesses must come exclusively from his share.
Her fingers tightened around the page. Then she spotted Nora Caldwell’s name and, for the first time since entering my kitchen, stopped making plans.
Chapter 2/5
“This was never executed,” Mom said. “It was a draft.” Her gaze remained on the signature section, displaying Dad’s name alongside the attorney’s and Nora’s.
“The original was recovered from an archived client box when the law office moved,” I told her. “This copy is certified. My attorney has the original.”
“Nora contacted you?”
She spoke too quickly to pretend the name meant nothing. Ethan guided the girls toward the breakfast nook while I pulled out the second document.
A forensic examiner had compared Dad’s authenticated signatures with one on the authorization transferring my allocated funds into Ryan’s company. The examiner concluded the disputed signature wasn’t Dad’s. Ink analysis also suggested it had been added after his death.
