“She never told me about it.”
We’d build something together.
He sat beside me.
After a while, he asked: “Did Linda at least give you the keys?”
“What keys?”
“To the country house.”
“Why would she? That house belongs to my parents.”
I only learned yesterday he died.
“No, Nora. Your grandmother left it to Richard. It was his alone.”
I stared at him. “Dad used to talk about turning the barn into our workshop. But I thought he was just dreaming.”
Walter shook his head.
“Sounds like someone’s been keeping you in the dark. You need to speak to his attorney.”
I suddenly remembered the letter in my pocket.
Did Linda at least give you the keys?
I pulled it out, found the attorney’s number, and called before I could lose my nerve.
“Mr. Bennett? This is Nora, Richard’s daughter.”
“Nora! Finally. I’ve been waiting to hear from you.”
