I continued reading.
There is something about your grandfather’s business that I never told you.
A man named Malcolm Voss was involved.
I stopped breathing.
Malcolm.
The same Malcolm who had just called me.
I read the next line.
Your grandfather made a terrible mistake trusting him.
Serena leaned over my shoulder.
“Keep going.”
I did.
Years ago, Malcolm attempted to take control of assets belonging to our family. Your grandfather stopped him, but he knew Malcolm would eventually return.
If he does, remember this:
The Charleston property was never merely a property.
It was placed into your name for a reason.
My heart began pounding.
There was one final sentence.
And if Margaret Mercer ever appears in your life, ask her what happened in Savannah in 1998.
I dropped the letter onto the desk.
“1998?”
