“Until Miss Colchis was legally declared dead, the house couldn’t be auctioned or sold or any other such thing. In January of this year, when the declaration was made and certified, we prepared to auction it off. However, we received a visit from a woman representing an adoption agency in Red Hook. She told us that Circe had a living relative and provided your information to us. The documents were meant to be given to you several weeks ago, but there was an unforeseen circumstance that delayed the processing. Mrs. Taylor, the client specialist in charge of this transfer, didn’t come into work. She was in possession of the original paperwork, but unfortunately . . .” Her voice wavered. “Unfortunately, we were informed several days ago that her body was found nearby. The police now believe there was foul play involved.”

The news report I’d seen in Mrs. Redmond’s office had said something about a body being found.

“We immediately established new account numbers for Miss Colchis’s estate to protect the security of the estate. But the process of reestablishing everything took much longer than we had anticipated.” She took a long, deep breath, cleared her throat, and straightened up. “Where did you get the voided paperwork?”

“A woman came to our apartment in Brooklyn. She reached out to my mom first, and then she showed up in person. She had this paperwork with her and said we could move in. We drove all the way up here—”

“She was able to give you access to the property?”

“She gave me the keys.”

The woman looked bewildered. “We’ll need to sign the actual paperwork, and your legal guardians will need to be present, but this eviction notice is fake.” She shook her head as if she were disgusted. “I’ve heard of these types of scams. There are con artists that exploit families of the recently deceased, but this doesn’t seem like she was trying to get money or even the property itself. It seems like she was trying to put you in the house under false pretenses. It’s so odd.” She shook her head, flustered. “We need to call the police.”

My mind went in circles. “Were you here when the woman from the adoption agency came in? Did you see her?”

“Yes.”

“What did she look like?”

She thought carefully. “It was some time ago, but she was tall, black hair with a gray streak right down the center of her head.”

Mrs. Redmond.

“Call the police,” I said. “Call Dr. Grant. Right now.”

The woman immediately picked up her phone and started dialing. I stepped out into the lobby and sent texts to Mom and Mo, letting them know what was going on. Then, I messaged Karter.

Bri: Did you know what your mom was doing this whole time?