Chapter 8

Priya made tea because she didn't know what else to do with a billionaire matriarch in her tiny living room. Eleanor sat in the only good armchair with her back perfectly straight. Martha stood beside her. I stayed on the couch with a blanket over my knees, feet up the way the doctor ordered. Eleanor opened her handbag and took out a thin bundle tied with ribbon. Five small white cards. Nora Blackwood. Nora Blackwood. Nora Blackwood. Nora Blackwood. Nora Blackwood. Her handwriting. Elegant....