I was making tea in the kitchen when I heard a low, steady rumble outside. Not one engine, but several. The kind of sound that makes your windows vibrate.
I looked out and froze.
A long black limousine sat in front of my house, flanked by five sleek black sedans. They looked like something out of a movie, polished, expensive, and completely out of place in our neighborhood.
My hands started shaking. “What in the world…”
Car doors opened in perfect synchronization. Men in dark suits stepped out, their movements precise and deliberate. One of them, tall and silver-haired with a briefcase, walked up my front porch.
I opened the door before he could knock, my heart racing. “Can I help you?”
“Are you Lila’s guardian?” he asked politely.
“Yes. Who are you?”
“My name is Mr. Caldwell. I’m an attorney representing an estate. May I come in? There’s something important you need to know.”
I let him in, my mind spinning with possibilities, none of them making sense.
