A Name I've Never Heard

Naomi asked him to repeat it. He did — same words, same name, same flat legal cadence that made it worse somehow, like the sentence had been rehearsed.

"Who is Sable Quinn?" Callum asked before his mother could.

"I don't have that information," Castellan said, too quickly for it to be true.

"You're the executor," Naomi said. "You have a name and an address and probably a phone number. Don't tell me you don't have information."

Castellan set the folder down, finally, like it had gotten too heavy. "Gregory listed her as a beneficiary in an amendment he filed privately. He asked that her identity not be disclosed to family members until the reading. I'm sorry, Naomi. I know this isn't what you expected."

"I expected my husband's house," Naomi said. Her voice came out steadier than she felt, which surprised her. "The house we bought together. The house I refinished the kitchen in. Where is the part where he explains that?"

"There's a letter," Castellan said. "Sealed. Addressed to you specifically. I was instructed to hold it until you asked."

"I'm asking."

He hesitated, and in that hesitation Naomi understood something was about to get worse before it got better. Callum's hand had gone very still under hers.

"There's one more thing," Castellan said. "Ms. Quinn is here. In the building. She asked to wait until after the reading to speak with you, if you were willing."

Naomi stared at him. Twenty-three years of marriage, and Gregory had never once mentioned this name — not in an argument, not in a whisper, not on a drunk night when secrets usually slipped loose.

"Send her in," Naomi said, before she could think better of it.

Castellan didn't move toward the door. Instead he glanced at his assistant, standing just outside it, and gave a small nod.

The door opened, and Naomi found herself looking at a stranger who had her husband's exact eyes.