At the fourth place, a branch of Hudson Valley Bank & Trust, I gave my ID to the woman at the counter. She looked puzzled and I felt like I was going to scream.

“Let me guess,” I said. “You have no idea what I’m talking about?”

The woman shook her head. “No, it’s—Can you hang on for a moment?”

I sat in the lobby while she went off with my documents. She came back a few minutes later and led me to a private office where an older woman in a harsh green blouse was seated behind a wide desk, my stack of paperwork in front of her. A small fern sat on the windowsill and it slowly shifted toward me.

“Miss Greene,” she said. She leaned forward and stuck out her hand. “I’m Evelyn Haley, the branch manager here. Please have a seat.”

I sat down as the other woman left the office, closing the door behind her.

“I’m really sorry to bother you,” I said.

“It’s no bother at all,” she said. “I have to tell you, Miss Greene, I think you may want to have a parent or guardian here with you before we proceed.”

“Why?” I asked. “I mean, I know taxes are owed on the property, but if we could please make a payment arrangement or something. We just need a little time.” I was so angry at how casually Mrs. Redmond had ripped the rug out from under us. “Please. Tell me what to do. I’ll find a way to pay the money.”

“Miss Greene, I can see that this has caused you quite a bit of stress, but I have to admit that I’m very confused right now.”

“Confused?” I asked.

She reached into her drawer and pulled out a stack of neatly organized papers, setting them on the desk. She placed her hand on top of them. “Miss Greene, these documents are the official documents for the property on 307 Old Post Road. They were drafted in January of this year when Miss Colchis was legally declared deceased. You have to understand that when there is no will—”

“Wait. Mrs. Redmond said that Circe left me the house in her will.”

The woman shook her head. “There was no will, no paperwork, nothing. The house is paid for, and the taxes have been paid through a trust for over one hundred years.”

“I don’t understand.” It felt like a rock was sitting in the pit of my stomach. “Why do we have to leave, then?”

“Miss Greene, you shouldn’t be in the house in the first place. Not yet, anyway.” Ms. Haley pursed her lips. “These documents”—she touched the ones Mrs. Redmond had left with me—“are invalid. We logged their information as invalid because they went missing.”

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 28

I gripped the armrests of the chair. “What?”