The Executor's first question arrived wrapped in paper, sealed with wax, and delivered by a man who did not blink.
"Madam Ashworth," the Executor said, his voice flat as a ledger page. "You understand that the answers you give will determine who inherits the Blackwood estate?" Eleanor Ashworth adjusted her spectacles and nodded. She was thirty-two, small in a way that made people underestimate her, which was precisely why she had survived seven years in the estate verification business. "I understand."...
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