“It’s nice to see you again, Miss Thompson,” the lawyer says as Lizzy and I settle into chairs in her comfortable Indianapolis office. “And it’s nice to meet your sister. What can I do for you today?”
“We’re kind of wondering who the silent partner is,” Liz says. She points her thumb at me. “This one has amnesia and doesn’t remember whether or not you told her.”
Her eyes go wide. “Amnesia! That’s horrible. I’m so sorry. What happened?”
“I’m a klutz and fell down the stairs.”
“Goodness. Do they think your memory will come back?”
“The doctor said it will, but like Swiss cheese,” I explain. “And so far that’s been true. Lots of holes, including the details of my agreement with my silent partner.”
“Well, to answer your sister’s first question, the agreement was under the condition of my client’s anonymity, so if you knew who was behind it, that information certainly didn’t come from me.” She stands and hands me a thick folder across the desk. “I’m sure you have this in your files somewhere, but those are copies with the details of our agreement. You may keep them if you like.”
I open the file and flip through the first few pages, but my impatient twin cuts to the chase. “What’s going to happen to the bakery when she gets married?”
She lifts a brow. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
I shift awkwardly. “What my sister is trying to say is, not knowing who the silent partner is, I’m not sure if it would be okay for my husband and me to live in the apartment over the bakery. Or if my…partner would have an issue with that.”
She frowns. “I’d be happy to check with my client, but I can’t imagine he would object. Those living quarters didn’t come with any stipulations that I recall.”
Lizzy and I exchange a look, and Liz says, “You really can’t tell us? Not even a hint?”
The lawyer looks unimpressed with my sister’s adorable persistence. “Not even a hint, Miss Thompson. That’s the definition of anonymous.”