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Lucille had come to despise her old nickname because her husband had always sounded exasperated when he used it. But Reid said it softly. With care. She looked up. She wanted to shout across the desk:How could she do this to us?Instead, she stayed businesslike. “How did she change the will?”

He exhaled through his nose. “I got a call on my cell during the weekend, which was strange. I asked if it could wait until Monday, but Vivian said it was urgent. That was when she said that she wanted to make a change referring to the inheritance of her estate. To write a codicil. She wanted the estate to go to Elaine Deng.”

“Shesaid?”

Reid nodded. “Your mother wrote and signed the codicil.” He paused and held up a piece of paper with creases in it. “Here is the original document. Itwasher handwriting and signature, wasn’t it?”

Lucille stared at the familiar words that had been photocopied into her copy of the will.

I devise and bequeath my estate and all its matters to Elaine Deng.

I revoke the prior devise and bequest of my estate and all its matters to my daughters, Yin Chen, Lucille Wang, and Yin Zi-Meng, Renata Yin-Lowell.

It all would have been theirs. Hers, and her sister’s. It should have been.

There was her mother’s unmistakable, betraying signature. And the date: July 20.

Lucille ground her teeth.Keep going.“And in this call. Did my mother mention any other financial assets? Or funds?”

Reid gave her a strange stare. “There’s no other money that she mentioned.”

No other money.It didn’t make sense. Between her late mother and stepfather, they’d accumulated wealth, generations of it, she thought. Enough to send them all to years of private school and college. Enough that Ma had paid half the down payment for her and Daniel’s house. Enough that Ma used to send checks for Madeline’s day school tuition. But now it was all gone? “Okay. And what time was this again?”

“Hm.” He pulled out his phone. Squinted at it. “Around 5:32 p.m. She’d written up the amendment after and mailed it to me. I received it by Monday. The 22nd.”

“And did you ask her why? Why she changed this detail?”

“I did.” His eyebrows knit in focus. “And she said this one thing I couldn’t make sense of. She said, ‘My daughters can’t have this house. It will ruin them.’?”

The clock ticked.

“Ruin us,” Lucille whispered.Ruin?Her mouth was dry. She swallowed. “What does that mean?”

“I asked her. She didn’t say.”

“That doesn’t sound like her at all. Ma wouldn’t say that.”

“She did.” Reid’s voice was soft. “I heard her, Lucy.”

There had to be more to this. “When she changed the will. Did she seem like she was under the influence of something? Under duress?”

“If you’re referring to her mental acuity, she seemed sound of mind. At least to me. But she didn’t have witnesses so… I don’t know.”

“Does that even make the will valid?”

“Technically, yes. It’s handwritten. Still, contestable.”

She gripped the sides of her chair. “It sure is. Because none of thisseems like her. She doesn’t change her will for decades, and then she does this, and a week later she’s found dead?”

He gave her a long look. “What did she die of, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Doctor said heart attack. I’m getting an official autopsy report.”

He nodded. “That’s what I would have done. It may have been… planned.”

“You think my mother killed herself?”

“I—” Reid swallowed, not quite meeting her eyes. “I didn’t mean— It’s not appropriate for me to speculate.”