He blinked once, only once. “That’s a lot of work for you, Margaret.”
I walked over and squeezed his arm the way a loving wife would. “It’s my birthday.”
The morning after I saw them, I called my lawyer, Mr. Linwood.
“Margaret, it’s been years,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
I asked him to review some documents and scheduled a meeting with him a few days later.
That afternoon, I drove to the bank and opened the small safety deposit box that had belonged to my mother.
Inside, beneath a velvet pouch of jewelry, was the sealed envelope she had pressed into my hand the week before she died.
I read the letter again in my car, slowly, the way a person reads something they already know by heart.
Then I tucked it into my purse.
In a few days, Mr. Linwood would be able to confirm whether I was right about those documents, and Kate… well, Kate was going to receive a vicious surprise when I showed her Mom’s letter.
The trap was already in place. All I had to do was let them step into it.
—
At home that evening, Robbert kissed my cheek the way he always did.
“You’ve been quiet this week,” he said. “Everything okay at work?”
“Just tired,” I said. “I want this birthday dinner to be perfect, that’s all.”
He smiled.
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