Mark pulled his dark blue sedan into the long gravel driveway just as the sun began to set.
The tired engine sputtered once before coming to a complete rest in front of the garage door.
He sighed deeply and rested his head against the cold steering wheel for a few quiet moments.
It had been a brutal twelve-hour shift at the local auto body shop downtown.
All he wanted was to hug his toddler daughter and eat a quiet home cooked dinner.
He grabbed his grease-stained lunchbox from the passenger seat and opened his car door.
The evening air was crisp and smelled like freshly cut grass from the neighboring yards.
He walked up the wooden porch steps and noticed that the front door was slightly open.
That was very unusual because his sister Brenda was always extremely cautious about home security.
He pushed the front door open with his elbow and stepped into the main entryway.
Mark: Brenda, I am home from work early!
No one answered his call from the living room or the nearby kitchen area.
Instead, he heard the sharp sound of loud crying echoing down the second floor hallway.
It was the distinct voice of his little two year old daughter, Lily.
His heart immediately skipped a beat as panic rushed through his veins like ice water.
He dropped his heavy lunchbox onto the entryway floor with a sharp wooden clatter.
Mark: Lily, sweetie, where are you?
He took the carpeted stairs three at a time in his heavy work boots.
The crying grew louder and more hysterical as he reached the top landing of the stairs.
At the far end of the well-lit hallway, Brenda was crouching down over the little girl.
Brenda was wearing her bright green satin shirt and held a thick paper envelope in her hand.
She was yelling loudly while shaking the toddler by her small soft shoulders.
Brenda: Tell me where you found this right now!
Mark: Hey! Get away from her!
Mark sprinted down the hallway with fast heavy footsteps echoing against the white walls.
He slid onto his knees next to his crying daughter and pulled her away safely.
Mark: Get your hands off her right now!
Brenda: She was playing with your father's private legal papers!
Mark: She is a baby, Brenda!
Mark stood up while holding Lily firmly against his chest to protect her completely.
Brenda stepped back against the hallway wall where an American flag hung framed in oak.
Her face was red with anger as she clutched the torn paper envelope tightly.
Brenda: You do not understand what is inside this document, Mark!
Mark: I do not care about paper when you are screaming at my daughter!
Brenda: This paper proves our father left the house to me!
Mark stared at his sister in utter disbelief as the quiet hall turned freezing cold.
Mark: Our father is still alive in the nursing home downstairs.
Brenda: Not for much longer, according to his last will and testament.
Mark gripped his toddler tighter as a dark secret began to unfold right before him.