CHAPTER 1 — THE LOCKED WORKSHOP
CHAPTER 1 — THE LOCKED WORKSHOP
The brass key felt strangely warm in Mara's hand.
"I'd like to see the workshop," she said quietly.
Judith's chair scraped across the hardwood floor.
"No."
The answer came too quickly.
"It was your father's private space," Judith continued. "There's nothing in there."
The attorney calmly adjusted his glasses.
"Actually, Mrs. Ellison, according to Mr. Ellison's written instructions, only Mara has the legal authority to access the workshop."
Silence filled the room.
For years, the detached brick building behind the house had remained locked. Mara remembered standing outside its windows as a little girl, watching her father restore antique furniture while humming old jazz songs.
Now she slid the brass key into the rusted lock.
The door opened with a long creak.
Dust floated through the afternoon sunlight.
Everything looked untouched.
His workbench.
His tools.
His favorite leather apron still hanging on the wall.
Then Mara noticed something odd.
One drawer wasn't dusty.
She pulled it open.
Inside lay a thick leather journal, a fireproof lockbox, and dozens of neatly labeled folders.
Every page told the same story.
Bank statements.
Canceled checks.
Loan agreements.
Over twelve years, her father had quietly paid Paige's college tuition, bought her first condo, cleared her credit card debt, and even rescued failed business ventures.
Each payment was marked the same way.
Advance on inheritance.
At the bottom of the final page, one sentence stood out.
"Mara asked for nothing. Paige expected everything."
Mara's hands trembled.
The journal revealed even more.
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Her father had suspected someone would try to manipulate his estate after his death.
That was why he had hidden the real deed—and left the workshop key only for Mara.
