My stepmother called and told me, “You’re banned from the family beach house. I changed every lock.” She sounded almost delighted. I simply replied, “Thanks for the update.” What she didn’t know was that my mom had placed the house in a private trust under my name before she passed away.

in the window—dark hair twisted into a careless bun, sweater sliding off one shoulder, exhaustion etched beneath my eyes—and tightened my hand around the phone.

“What?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

“I changed all the locks this afternoon,” she said, drawing out each word with theatrical satisfaction. “So do not embarrass yourself by showing up and continue reading …