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He picked up on the second ring. “Lucy?”

She closed her eyes at the calm, deep sound of his voice and her old nickname. “Hi. I need advice. Assurance, really.” They had always loved discussing cases back in the day, late at night, curled into each other on the couch, books pushed among empty beer bottles and takeout on the coffee table. In many ways, he was still the one who knew her best.

“Sure thing. But before that, how are you doing? How’s Madeline?”

“Fine.” Lucille swallowed. “Ma gave the house toElaine.”

There was a pause. “Who?”

“Elaine. Deng. Daughter of Ma’s former housekeeper. From ages ago. Of all people.” She shook her head. “It makes no sense whyshewould ever be the beneficiary of anything from Ma. But here’s the thing. The will was changed two weeks ago.”

“Okay. That’s odd.”

“I was looking at Elaine the whole time. She looked like she knew. I think something’s up with her.” She paused. “You’re following me, right?”

“Ah.” His voice hardened. “So you think—”

“I know, Daniel. I can’t explain it.”

“And is there evidence? An autopsy report?”

“Ordered with a toxicology report. Just waiting for the results. There’s a case here, isn’t there? From a legal standpoint?”

“Have you consulted a probate lawyer?”

“You’re family law. That’s adjacent. Come on. I just need your thoughts on the situation.”

“That’s… Okay. There could be. You’d have to prove that it was intentional and without legal justification.”

“As in, Elaine didn’t kill Ma in self-defense? Yeah. I doubt that.” She straightened up. “Thank you for your read.”

“Really, Lucy. I’ll pass on a contact of mine. Alexis Kahan. From our year at Stanford. It’s no problem. He’s taken care of things like this before.”

“Sure.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know. I might keep this to myself for a bit. Family matters are always… delicate.”

There was a long silence. “You’re not thinking of taking this on yourself, are you?”

She fixed her eyes on a book that was sticking out from the others on a shelf. “And what if I did?”

“This is entirely different from your kind of litigation, Lucy.”

A part of her knew he was right. But she pushed on. “I’m allowed to. Legally, I can. And I know this family best.”

“You have a tendency to take on too much. More than you can handle.”

“Now what does that mean?”

He sighed. “I don’t want to get into it. You know what I’m talking about.”

She knew he was referencing her failed congressional campaign. It always came back to this. It had marked the end of her political aspirations and her marriage. Things were never the same after that. “Well,” she said scathingly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. And the honesty.”

“I’m sorry. I—”

“No, I mean it.” She ended the call and stared at the screen.Mistake.

She let her gaze drift to the desktop computer in front of her. She reached out and pressed the power button. She must have bought this for Ma decades ago. It whirred to life and dust motes billowed out.

It still worked. A miracle. She shut it back off.