Jason stepped forward angrily. “That’s my kid too,” he snapped.

Mr. Dawson remained composed. “Emily anticipated that argument. The will requires confirmation of paternity. Until that is established, Mr. Reed has no access to the trust.”

Ava’s hand slipped away. Jason attempted a laugh, but it sounded strained. “This is ridiculous,” he protested. “Emily wouldn’t—”

Sarah’s voice cut through the murmuring crowd. “She would. She did.” She retrieved an envelope from her purse and handed it to Mr. Dawson. “She asked me to bring that.”

Mr. Dawson unfolded the letter and read without emotion, which somehow made it worse.

“To my mother, Linda,” he read, “if you’re hearing this, then I’m gone. I’m sorry. Please don’t believe the story Jason tells. I found out about Ava three months ago. I saved screenshots, bank records, and hotel receipts. I also found out my car’s brakes were serviced two weeks ago—by someone Jason paid in cash.”

The room fell silent.

Jason’s complexion turned ashen. “That’s a lie,” he stammered. “She was hormonal. She was paranoid.”

Mr. Dawson continued steadily. “Emily directs that all evidence be submitted to the police and her insurance provider. She requests that her mother be appointed temporary trustee of the child’s estate.”

My knees nearly gave out. My Emily had been fighting alone while I folded tiny baby clothes.

Jason lunged for the documents. “Give me that!” he shouted.

Funeral staff stepped between them. Sarah moved beside me and whispered, “She recorded him too.”

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