Poppy and Shelly leaned in.
Ivy pointed to a faint line. “The pencil dust has gathered there for some reason. Maybe something brushed on top of it, but I have another idea. There’s a razor blade and a sharp knife in my tray. Would one of you bring them to me?”
“On it,” Poppy said. In a flash, she was back, carefully wielding the sharp instruments.
Using extreme care, Ivy slit an edge of the thick paper that was affixed to the wood. She slid the flat blade under the old paper until she felt something. Working carefully, she coaxed out a corner of a paper. Faint writing covered one side.
“Is that the provenance?” Poppy asked.
Ivy glanced at it. Pilar’s name was at the top. Under it was another brief entry. “More than that, I think.” She stood and tucked the note into her pocket. “I’m go
