Lila leaned forward, her hands gripping the edge of the table.

“In this document,” Edward continued, “your father left nearly his entire estate — the Pasadena home, his savings, and his shares — not to Victoria, but to you. Until you turn eighteen, the assets will be managed by a trustee of his choosing.”

He paused. “That trustee is me.”

Lila’s eyes widened.
“But Victoria said I had nothing — that I wasn’t really his responsibility anymore.”

Edward placed the papers down and met her gaze.
“Maybe Victoria doesn’t care for you, Lila. But the law does. And your father did. This ensures that you will never be abandoned or exploited. He trusted me to protect you.”

A trembling breath escaped her lips. For the first time since the funeral, she felt something other than loss — a fragile flicker of safety.