"Young Master Abbott." His voice was ice. "This is no longer your home. If you cause another disturbance, I'll call the police."
This was the same man who'd fussed over me for years, who'd snuck me extra desserts and asked if I was sleeping enough. Now he looked at me like I was a trespasser.
The rejection stung more than I wanted to admit.
"I need to see Russ Finch," I said, forcing my voice steady. "Let me in."
"Mr. Finch has retired for the evening. Come back tomorrow."
I checked my phone. Just past eight.
The man's nightlife hadn't even begun, and he was already asleep? What kind of young person kept the same hours as my elderly uncle?
I didn't leave.
I stood outside the gate all night.
At seven the next morning, Russ Finch emerged in my uncle's Maybach. I stepped directly into its path.
"Russ Finch." My voice rang out in the cold morning air. "I can prove you're not the legal heir. You're coming with me to see my great-uncle. Now."
Finch studied me, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. Then, unexpectedly, he nodded.
"Alright." A half-smile curved his lips. "I'm curious to see what proof you think you have."
The moment we arrived at George's house, the words tumbled out of me.
"Great-Uncle George, do you know my uncle left everything to this man?" I jabbed a finger at Finch. "You're not in the will video. Tell me the truth—he forged it, didn't he? He coerced my uncle into this. That's what happened, isn't it?"
George stared at me, genuine confusion creasing his weathered face.
"I know about the will, Simon. Your uncle told me himself." He shifted in his chair, wincing. "I was supposed to be there as witness, but I got into an accident on the way. Broke my leg—see?"
I looked down. Bandages wrapped his leg from knee to ankle.
"I recorded a video testimony before my surgery," he continued. "Confirming the will's validity. They didn't show you?"
He pulled out his phone and handed it to me.
The video was short. But George's words were unmistakable: the new will was real, made of my uncle's own free choice.
I stood there, paralyzed.
My gaze swung between George and Finch.
Had Finch bought him off?
The accusation left my mouth before I could stop it.
"Great-Uncle George, did he pay you? How much did it take? How could you do this to my uncle? How could you betray my parents?"
George's expression hardened, all warmth draining from his face.