**Chapter 1**

The solicitor's letter arrived on a Tuesday.

Celeste read it twice at her kitchen counter with her coffee going cold beside her and then put it down and looked at the wall for a moment and picked it up and read it again.

Her aunt Eleanor had died six weeks ago. Celeste had found out from her mother in a phone call that lasted four minutes and contained more silence than words. The falling out between Eleanor and her mother had happened when Celeste was nineteen and had never been explained to her satisfaction and had calcified over fifteen years into the specific permanent shape of something nobody...