My aunt threw my dead grandmother’s kitten out into a freezing rainstorm, but my grandma’s secret will delivered the most brilliantly savage revenge from beyond the grave.

The taller lawyer stepped forward, pulling a crisp white legal document from his briefcase. "Miss Clara, I am Arthur Pendelton, representing Brenda Vance. We are filing an emergency petition in probate court alleging undue influence and mental incompetence regarding your grandmother’s final will revision."

"Save your breath, Mr. Pendelton," I said, holding up my hand. "My grandmother was evaluated by three independent board-certified psychiatrists prior to signing the trust documents. Those evaluations are notarized and attached directly to the primary filing with Ms. Vance."

Mr. Pendelton blinked, glancing sideways at Brenda with a flicker of hesitation. "Be that as it may, my client remains the lawful immediate next-of-kin, and we are demanding immediate access to inspect the premises for estate valuation—"

"You're not inspecting anything," a deep voice boomed from the front porch.

The heavy oak door was pushed wider, and Tom stepped into the foyer. He was dressed in a clean flannel shirt and canvas jacket, carrying a heavy tool box. Behind him stood three other shelter volunteers, including a local police officer in full uniform.

"Officer Davis," Brenda gasped, her voice tightening. "What is the meaning of this? This is a family matter!"

Officer Davis stepped into the entry hall, adjusting his duty belt. "Actually, Brenda, it's a property management matter now. Ms. Evelyn Vance filed the certified trust documents with the county sheriff’s department two hours ago. Clara is the sole legal occupant and trustee of this property. You were explicitly served with a formal trespass notice at your hotel at noon."

Brenda’s mouth dropped open. "A trespass notice?! This is my mother's house!"

"It's a sanctuary now, Brenda," I said, stepping off the final stairs and standing beside Tom. "And you are no longer welcome on the grounds."

Mr. Pendelton quickly cleared his throat, sliding his documents back into his briefcase. "Brenda... if a formal trespass notice has been filed and verified by law enforcement, we must advise you to leave immediately. Proceeding further could result in immediate civil arrest."

"Arrest?!" Brenda shrieked, turning her fury on her own attorney. "I'm paying you ten thousand dollars a week to get me this house!"

"And you're wasting your money," Officer Davis said sternly. "Now, ma'am, I'm going to ask you once to step outside and leave the property, or I will escort you out in handcuffs."

Brenda looked around the grand foyer—at the high ceilings, the crystal chandelier, the marble floors—realizing that every door to her mother's fortune had been locked shut tight.

Her eyes landed on me, burning with pure hatred. "You think you've won, don't you? You think you can run a multi-million-dollar estate with a bunch of stray animals? You'll fail, Clara. You'll run out of money, the roof will leak, and you'll come crawling to me!"

"The roof was replaced last summer," Tom noted dryly from behind his toolbox. "Paid for in cash by Eleanor. It's got a fifty-year warranty."

Brenda let out a sound of pure frustration, turned on her heel, and stormed out the front door, her lawyers scrambling after her down the porch steps.

Officer Davis closed the heavy oak door behind them, turning to give me a warm, reassuring nod. "She won't be coming back, Clara. I'll have a patrol car keep an eye on the driveway for the rest of the week."

"Thank you, Officer," I said, feeling a wave of relief wash over me.