"Thank you," April says, unwrapping the chocolate bar and looking down at it for a moment, a faintly amused smile. "Chocolate always does seem to help, doesn't it?"

She glances at the envelope, then says, "It's nothing. My mother's will. I haven't seen her since I was two years old, it shouldn't matter." And it's not her death that matters. It's the revelation that she's not alone.