grandfather for twenty years.
He sat at the kitchen table, sipping hot coffee while reviewing the forged quitclaim deed and certified bank statements Grandma had laid across the tablecloth.
“Mrs. Sterling,” Sheriff Miller said quietly, setting his pen down. “This isn’t just a civil dispute between family members. Forging a signature on a county property deed is a class three felony. If we execute this warrant, Arthur will face formal arrest.”
Grandma looked across the table at him.
Her eyes held no malice, spite, or desire for spectacle.
Only the
