I didn’t know it yet, but that wasn’t the end of the story.
It was only the beginning.
Because at 11:42 that morning, my attorney called.
His voice was unusually serious.
“Julia, we have a problem.”
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?”
“The documents were delivered.”
“I know.”
“No,” he said.
“You don’t.”
He paused.
“There was another envelope.”
“What envelope?”
“The one your mother received wasn’t the only delivery this morning.”
I sat up straighter.
“What do you mean?”
“We received a response.”
“From my parents?”
“No.”
“From Brent?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
My attorney hesitated.
Then he said:
“Someone claiming to have information about your family’s finances.”
My heart started pounding.
“What kind of information?”
“I haven’t opened the attachment yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because they specifically requested that you be present when we review it.”
I stared at the clock.
11:43 a.m.
Outside, the first sunlight of the new year was pouring through the window.
