I did not head back to the office. Instead, I took the elevator straight down to the underground parking garage.
I slid into the driver's seat, pulled out my phone, and dialed a number I almost never called.
A deep, steady male voice came through the line, laced with faint surprise. "Yara?" he asked.
"Oliver, it's me," I replied.
Oliver had been my mother's personal lawyer back when she was still alive.
After she passed, we had barely talked at all.
"I need you to help me look into a few things," I said.
"Go on," he said.
"First," I continued, "did my mother leave a will before she died? What does it say?"
Silence stretched over the phone for a few seconds. "She did," he replied. "But there are conditions for executing it, and Ethan is the co-executor. We cannot disclose the conte
