Part 2 — The Trust My Grandmother Never Told Me About

For several seconds, I couldn’t speak.

I stood in Serena’s kitchen with my phone pressed against my ear, staring at nothing.

“A trust?” I finally whispered.

“Yes,” Malcolm Voss said. “A trust naming Margaret Mercer as trustee.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I thought so too.”

My fingers tightened around the phone.

“My grandmother’s name was Eleanor Hayes. She died seven years ago. Her estate was settled.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need to find the original estate documents.”

“I already have them.”

There was a pause.

“Claire, what you’re about to discover may explain why your husband and his family targeted your property.”

My stomach twisted.

“Tell me.”

“I can’t over the phone.”

“Why not?”

“Because if Margaret is involved, I don’t know who else is listening.”

Then the line went dead.

I stared at the screen.

Serena walked toward me.

“What happened?”

I slowly lowered the phone.

“Margaret may have been connected to my grandmother.”

Serena frowned.

“My grandmother died seven years ago.”

“I know.”

“And Margaret met me only after I married Evan.”

“I know.”

“So how could she possibly be the trustee of something my grandmother created?”

I didn’t answer.

Because there was only one way to find out.

We drove to my grandmother’s old house the next morning.

The property had been empty since her death, but I still had a key.

The moment I opened the front door, memories rushed over me.

The smell of old books.

The grandfather clock in the hallway.

The little wooden table where my grandmother used to leave handwritten notes for me.

I walked straight to her study.

Her files were still there.

Estate documents.

Bank statements.