Andre kept his voice even.

"How did you get this number?"

"That's not really important," Marcus said.

"What's important is that you understand what you're walking into before you make a decision you can't take back."

Walter had pulled into the driveway.

He looked over at Andre, reading the shift in his face.

Andre held up one finger and stepped out of the car.

"I'm listening," he said.

"Good." Marcus's tone was the kind that came from years of being the smartest person in rooms he'd arranged himself.

"My father is an old man.

He has lived in that house for thirty years.

He has maintained it, paid the taxes on it, kept it standing.

Whatever story Walter has been telling you about how he came to own it — I want you to consider that there is another version."

"I've seen a witness statement," Andre said.

A brief pause.

The first one.

"Eunice Patton is eighty-one years old with early-stage dementia," Marcus said.

"Any statement she gives will be challenged immediately.

Her credibility won't survive a deposition."

"That sounds like a threat against an elderly woman."

"It sounds like the law," Marcus said.

"Which is what this will come down to.

And the law is expensive, Andre.

It's slow.

It's exhausting.

And at the end of it, even if you win — which you won't — you'll have spent years of your life fighting over a house you never lived in for a grandmother you never met."

Andre walked to the end of the driveway.

The street was quiet.

"What are you offering?" he said.

"My father is willing to make a one-time payment.

Fifty thousand dollars.

In exchange for a signed agreement that you and Walter will make no further legal claims against the estate."

"Fifty thousand dollars for a property worth over a million by now."

"Fifty thousand dollars for you to walk away from a fight that will cost you more than that in legal fees alone."

"And Eunice?"

"Eunice is not your concern."

"She is, actually."

Another pause.

Longer this time.

"Andre." The smoothness in Marcus's voice had thinned slightly.

"I'm trying to give you a way out of this that doesn't hurt you.

My father has resources.

He has relationships in that county going back decades.

The lawyer who handled the original will is retired, but his son is a sitting judge.

Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"I understand exactly what you're telling me," Andre said.

"Then be smart."

"I'll think about it," Andre said.

He ended the call and stood on the sidewalk for a moment.

Then he walked back to the car.

Walter was watching him.

"Marcus Greer," Andre said.

Walter's expression didn't change.

"What did he offer?"

"Fifty thousand to walk away."

"And when you said no?"

"I said I'd think about it."

Walter nodded slowly.

"He'll take that as an opening.

He'll call again."

"I know." Andre got back in the car.

"The lawyer who handled the original will — his son is a judge?"

"District court.

Yes."

"That's what he was counting on."

"That's what he's always counted on." Walter looked at the steering wheel.

"Andre, if you want to walk away from this, I understand.

I brought you into something that has real consequences.

I didn't do that lightly, but I also didn't have the right to make that choice for you."

Andre looked at the house in front of them.

Small.

Ordinary.

Nothing about it suggested the weight of what was being decided inside it.

"My grandmother d*ed in a rented room," Andre said.

"With nothing."

"Yes."

"And the man who did that to her is sitting in her house right now, and his son is calling me to make sure it stays that way."

Walter didn't answer.

"I'm not walking away," Andre said.

"But we need a better lawyer than whatever you've been using.

And we need to protect Eunice."

Walter reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a business card.

He handed it to Andre.

"I've been waiting to make this call until I had you with me," Walter said.

"Her name is Patricia Odom.

She specializes in estate fraud.

She's been following this case for two years."

Andre looked at the card.

"She already knows about it?"

"She reached out to me," Walter said.

"Apparently Clifton Greer has done this before.

Rose wasn't the first."

Andre looked up.

"How many?" he said.

Walter's jaw tightened.

"At least three other families.

All of them elderly.

All of them with estates that ended up in Clifton's name or his associates' names."

The card felt different in Andre's hand now.

"Call her," Walter said.

"Tonight."