Chapter 2 - The Man with the Tablet

"Mr. Cross," said the larger guard, "Mrs. Whitmore has requested your removal."

Celeste recovered quickly. "He's showing guests a forged document. Take his device."

Adrian didn't move. "Touch this tablet and you'll be interfering with a legal preservation order."

He spoke quietly, as though discussing weather. It made the guard stop faster than a shout would have.

Nora watched Celeste's eyes. The woman wasn't watching the tablet anymore. She was studying the ballroom doors, calculating how many people had heard.

"What is it?" a guest asked.

"An original trust instrument," Adrian answered. "Ashcroft House was placed in a charitable trust by Eleanor Ashcroft. The Whitmores were appointed managers, not owners."

Celeste made a sharp sound. "My husband has managed this estate for twenty years."

"Yes," Adrian said. "And the trust specifies who may remove him."

He angled the screen toward Nora. Beneath a scanned paragraph sat a name in bold type: NORA EVELYN VALE, SUCCESSOR BENEFICIARY AND PROTECTOR.

The crowd murmured. Nora wished her hands weren't shaking. Her mother had taught her to stand straight when she was scared, not because courage meant having no fear, but because cruel people liked to watch fear work.

"My mother kept the estate records," Nora said. "She knew the Whitmores were lying."

Celeste leaned closer. The perfume on her gown smelled like expensive flowers left too long in a hot room. "Your mother was fired for stealing."

"My mother died trying to prove she hadn't."

For an instant, genuine uncertainty crossed Celeste's face. Then her phone vibrated. She read the screen, turned it facedown, and said, "This is a private party. Everyone, please enjoy yourselves."

But nobody moved.

Adrian's tablet pinged. A message from the courthouse records system appeared: EMERGENCY INJUNCTION FILED — TRUST DOCUMENT CHALLENGED.

"That was fast," he murmured.

"My husband's lawyers don't sleep," Celeste said. "And neither do I."

Nora's phone buzzed in her clutch. An unknown number had sent a photo: her apartment door, standing wide open. Beneath it were six words.

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WE HAVE WHAT YOUR MOTHER HID.

Nora looked up at Adrian, and he knew from her expression that the fight had already escaped the ballroom.