The DNA test took ten minutes. A nurse rubbed a cotton swab inside Noah's cheek. Noah said it tickled. Tom did his at a different time, so we didn't have to see each other.

The results would take two weeks.

They were long weeks.

Elaine had always ruled the ladies' section at the golf club. Now I heard from a friend of a friend what she was saying there. That I was a gold-digger. That I'd turned up at a funeral to chase a dead man's money. That Frank had been “confused” and I had “got into his head.”

Amber posted on Instagram. A quote in curly writing.

Some people will do anything for money. Karma is coming.

Two hundred likes. Some of them from people I used to call friends.

Then Mr Hughes rang.

“The results have arrived,” he said. “Mr Whitfield left one more instruction. He wanted the envelope opened at the family home, with everyone present. He was very specific.”

“The family home?”

“He wrote that it should be opened in the room where it all began.”

The living room. The coffee table. The brown envelope.

Frank had known everything.