“You are Alexandre and Marta Vos?” His voice was practiced and neutral.
“Alex,” Alex said. “And yes. That’s us.”
“Your grandmother’s documentation is in order. The property transfer is straightforward.” Carter opened the folder and moved through the required process efficiently and without condescension, which Alex appreciated, walking them through the transfer forms, the cadastral registration, the utility accounts that would need to be transferred to their names. He explained that Helena had paid the property taxes through the current year from a small account held with his office for that precise purpose, which meant they would have time to settle before any financial obligations came due.
When the paperwork was signed, Carter reached into the folder and produced a brass key ring, heavy and slightly tarnished, holding four keys of different sizes. He held it out to Alex.
Alex took it. The weight of it was surprising, disproportionate to its size, the weight of something that had been handled for years and had accumulated significance in the way objects do when they have been the instrument of daily life for a long time.
