"Go ahead." Hugo Valence's expression was stern, his gaze piercing.

Jenna Roland bit her lower lip hesitantly before speaking. "My brother mentioned the handwriting in the suicide note didn't resemble Dad's. But he was young then, and I didn't pay much attention."

Hugo suddenly straightened, his knuckles tapping rhythmically against the desk.

"Did your father write often?"

"He handled all the orchard receipts." Jenna nodded. "He also practiced calligraphy regularly at home."

Hugo's eyes sharpened. "Are those receipts and calligraphy samples still available?"

"Uncle Victor burned them." Jenna frowned. "He said it would spare us painful memories. Why do you ask, Mr. Valence?"

Leaning back into the sofa, Hugo met her gaze directly. "Current evidence suggests your parents were likely murdered. But today's focus isn't on that—it's the orchard."

Jenna's pupils contracted violently, her fingers trembling uncontrollably.

"Murder?"

Hugo adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, a cold glint flashing behind the lenses. "Almost certainly."

Her face drained of color, lips quivering.

The police had ruled it an accident back then.

"Suicide notes aren't left in accidental deaths." Hugo's words struck like a scalpel.

Jenna's mind went blank.

Who would want her parents dead?

"Miss Roland." Hugo interrupted her spiraling thoughts. "Do you have proof the orchard belonged to your parents?"

"Not on hand..." Her voice shook. "But the business registration should be under Dad's name."

Hugo's expression darkened. "If your uncle hasn't changed the registration, our chances are good. But if it's already transferred..."

"Is there no recourse?" Jenna pressed urgently.

"Unless he voluntarily returns it." Hugo shook his head. "Given what you've described, that's highly unlikely."

Her fists clenched. "Can't the law force him to return it?"

"If he claims it was a legal transfer or verbal agreement..." Hugo's tone grew grave. "Our odds plummet."

"So we need either the suicide note or his sudden conscience?"

"Precisely."

A server arrived with coffee, steam curling between them.

Hugo sipped his black coffee, gaze unwavering. "The legal system demands evidence. Without proof, the court won't intervene."

The world spun around Jenna. She'd assumed hiring a lawyer would reclaim the orchard—never imagining the legal path would prove this treacherous.