My father threw me out on my eighteenth birthday, stole the $3,000 I’d saved from working after school, and used it for my stepbrother. Nine days later, while I was digging through a restaurant dumpster for something to eat, a stranger in an expensive suit called my name and told me my supposedly dead grandfather had left me everything. But there was one condition nobody had warned me about.

There is one document you must read before you decide whether to confront your father.

It is in the old cider room, behind the loose brick beneath the west window.

James

I read the letter twice.

Then I went downstairs.

Eleanor was in the kitchen, washing dishes.

“Where is the old cider room?”

She turned off the faucet.

“You found the letter.”

“How did you know?”

“Your grandfather told me where he had hidden it.”

“What document is behind the loose brick?”

Eleanor dried her hands slowly.

“I don’t know.”

“Did you know my mother was sick?”

Her face changed.

Only slightly, but enough.

“Yes.”

“Did my father?”

“He knew she was ill.”

“Did he tell Grandpa?”

“No.”

The kitchen seemed to grow smaller.

“What kind of illness?”

“Your mother had a heart condition. She knew it could become serious. She wanted to see your grandfather before she died.”