Albert pulled out another document. A letter. Sealed. My name written on the envelope in handwriting I recognized even after fifty years.
“He wrote this six months before he died. Left instructions for me to find you. To deliver it personally.”
I took the envelope. Held it. Couldn’t open it yet.
“The inheritance,” I said. “You mentioned a condition.”
“Yes. Before you read the letter, you need to understand what he’s asking.”
Albert opened a folder. Showed me photos. A house. Large. Beautiful. Victorian style. Wrap-around porch. Gardens.
“This was Thomas’s home. Where he lived for the last thirty years. It’s part of the estate.”
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