Abigail’s brow furrowed. “Transfer of… what?” she whispered as she felt her own voice trembling. Her gaze darted instinctively toward the door behind the woman. “…Where is he?”
Katleya’s lips pressed into a thin line as she answered. “I’m afraid that Mr. Montclair has instructed that his presence remain private for your own well-being. He insisted that I deliver this to you personally. It is… for your peace of mind.”
Abigail scoffed weakly. “Peace of mind?” she echoed, her voice breaking. “Why won't he come here himself?”
“Well...I couldn't disclose more information,” Katleya said gently, but there was no warmth in her tone. “But this document contains everything he wished to leave in your care.”
Abigail swallowed hard, her pulse pounding. Her fingers fumbled with the blanket as Trina
