The House Appraisal

The real estate agent arrived while Nora was taping Sophie's spelling words to the refrigerator.

He stood on the porch with a tablet, a blazer, and the nervous politeness of a man realizing he had been sent into a bad divorce, death, or both.

"Mrs. Vale? I'm here for the preliminary valuation."

"No, you are not."

He checked the tablet. "The request came through estate counsel."

"Whose estate counsel?"

He had the wisdom to look uncomfortable.

"Cal Reed."

Nora almost laughed. The house was not large. It needed gutters and a new water heater and one window that always stuck in summer. But it was the place Sophie still believed Dad might walk into if everyone stopped saying impossible things.

"You need to leave."

"I can reschedule."

"You need to leave and write that entry was denied by the lawful occupant."

Sophie appeared behind Nora. "Are we moving?"

The agent looked stricken.

Nora shut the door before he could answer.

Her phone rang. Brooke.

"Miles's contested claim was opened three days before the crash," Brooke said without greeting.

Nora leaned against the door.

"He knew someone would kill him."

"Or he planned to force the comparison himself."

"And did not tell me."

"No."

Brooke did not soften it. Nora was grateful for that because softness would have made her cry.

Sophie tugged her sleeve. "Mom?"

Nora crouched. "We are not moving today."

"Tomorrow?"

"Not if I can help it."

Outside, the real estate agent drove away. A different car remained across the street.

Nora recognized Cal Reed's assistant from the funeral, a woman with smooth hair and no reason to sit there holding a camera.

She lifted the phone again.

"Brooke," Nora said, "they are documenting my house."

Across town, Brooke looked at the pre-opened death claim in her hand and understood the next move.

"They are preparing to say Miles never meant you to keep it."