“We tried, but it’s locked. I even bent a screwdriver.”
“That’s why you called me?”
“I thought your grandmother might have told you where the key was.”
“She never mentioned anything like this.”
Robert cleared his throat.
“I should also mention that I believed your husband had permission to inspect and access the property.”
“He didn’t,” I answered.
The appraiser looked genuinely embarrassed.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Layla. I wasn’t aware of the circumstances.”
Declan pointed at the chest.
“Robert has a tool in his truck. We could probably open it in a few minutes.”
“No,” I said firmly.
“Layla—”
“No. We don’t know what’s inside or even who placed it there. Other people owned this house for years.”
Robert nodded.
“That’s a reasonable concern. Finding something on a property doesn’t necessarily establish ownership of its contents.”
I turned toward him.
“Thank you for coming, Robert, but I don’t need an appraisal. I’m not putting the house on the market.”
