The morning sun streamed through the windows of George's Chicago apartment, casting long shadows across the floor. George sat at the kitchen table, the letter from Thomas Cade still fresh in his mind. The inheritance. The foundation. The strange, unexpected gift from his greatest enemy.
Sam walked into the kitchen, already dressed for work. She looked at George with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
"You're up early again. What's on your mind?"
George looked up from his coffee. "Cade's letter. I can't stop thinking about it. About what he said. About his brother Michael."
Sam sat down across from him. "What did he say about his brother?"
"He said Michael died because of him. He said he'd been trying to make up for it ever since." George shook his head. "I don't know why he told me t
