fiancé said, standing and picking up his keys. “And trust me on Saturday.”

“Ryan, tell me what’s going on.”

He squeezed my hand, and I realized he had been preparing for this moment much longer than I knew.

Ryan drove us across town without explaining our destination. He kept hold of my hand, tracing slow circles over my knuckles with his thumb.

“I need you to hear this from someone besides me,” he said. “So you know I’m not guessing.”

We stopped outside a quiet brick office building.

Mr. Halston waited inside with a thick folder already prepared.

“Erica,” the lawyer said, “everything Ryan is about to share, I’ve verified twice.”

He pushed the folder toward me.

I opened it and studied a legal document I barely understood, but the same name appeared repeatedly.

“Your father’s trust,” Mr. Halston said gently, turning toward Ryan. “Would you please explain it to