After Grant died, Audrey tried to protect her adopted daughter from the truth about his affair.

I stared at her.

"Grant's office? Why?"

Margaret smoothed her coat, her eyes avoiding mine.

"There are documents. Important ones. That belong to the family."

"The house is mine. Everything in it is mine. You signed the papers, Margaret. You took my money."

"Personal effects are different," she said. "And besides, that baby has rights. Grant's son deserves to have his father's things."

Lena shifted uncomfortably.

"Margaret, maybe we should go—"

"We are not going," Margaret cut her off. "Not until we find what we're looking for."

I crossed my arms.

"What exactly are you looking for?"

Margaret's jaw tightened.

"A will."

The room went quiet.

"A will?" I said slowly. "Grant had a will. It was read at the funeral. Everything goes to me. And to Poppy."

Margaret waved a hand dismissively.

"That old will was made years ago. Before Lena. Before the baby. Grant told me he was going to change it. Make sure his real son was provided for."

My heart began to race.

"If he changed it, then where is it?"

"That's what we're here to find out," she said, standing up. "He kept important papers in his office. I know he did."

She started walking toward the hallway.

I blocked her path.

"You are not going in there."

"Don't test me, Audrey," Margaret said, her voice low and dangerous. "I have lawyers. Good ones. If you don't let us look through that office, I will take you to court. I will challenge that will. I will challenge Poppy's adoption. I will make your life a living hell."

My breath caught in my throat.

Poppy's adoption.

It was the one thing I had always feared someone would use against us. The adoption was legal, of course—we had done everything by the book. But Margaret had money. And connections. And a hatred for Poppy that seemed to grow stronger every day.

I looked past her at Lena, who stood by the couch, her face pale.

She didn't want to be here. That much was obvious.

But Margaret did. And Margaret was a force of nature when she wanted something.

"Mommy?"

Poppy's small voice came from the hallway.

I turned. She stood there, clutching her stuffed rabbit, her eyes wide with fear.

"Is everything okay?"

I walked to her and knelt down, wrapping my arms around her.

"Everything's fine, baby. Grandma is just leaving."

"I am not leaving," Margaret said from behind me. "Not without that will."

I stood up, turning to face her.

"Give me one hour," I said. "One hour to look through the office myself. If I find a new will, I will call you. If not, you leave and never come back."