You’re just the dog walker, Hannah, so smile, hand me the leash, and disappear

I smiled, the kind of smile Eli used to call ‘the slow one.’ I handed Vivienne the leash. Duke didn’t move. He sat, ears flat, eyes locked on me the way Eli had trained him for three years. Vivienne tugged. Duke yawned. The photographers laughed, and her cheeks burned the color of her dress.

‘He only responds to his registered handler,’ I said softly. ‘It’s in the gala bylaws. Section nine.’

‘Then transfer the registration,’ she hissed. ‘Tonight. Or I’ll have you thrown off this property.’

That was my cue. I reached into my polo pocket and pulled out the envelope, the one Eli’s lawyer had delivered the morning he passed. I’d promised I wouldn’t open it until someone tried to take Duke from me. Vivienne had just qualified.

I broke the seal in front of the cameras. Inside was a notarized letter and a deed. Eli hadn’t just left me Duke. He’d left me the kennel, the breeding rights, the sponsorship contract Vivienne had been negotiating behind my back, and the eight acres of land her new house sat on. Every signature was witnessed. Every clause airtight.

‘Eli knew you, Vivienne,’ I said, my voice steady. ‘He knew the day he got sick, you started measuring his rooms. So he measured you back.’

The gala director stepped forward, read the documents, and quietly asked Vivienne to step off the carpet. The sponsorship rep, a woman in a silver suit, turned to me instead. ‘Ms. Hannah, we’d love to discuss the partnership. Properly, this time.’

Vivienne stood frozen, pearls trembling at her throat, as Duke finally rose, pressed his head into my hand, and walked me down the red carpet my brother had paid for. The cameras flashed. She wasn’t in a single frame.

The next morning, I mailed her a thirty-day notice. I included a photo of Duke. On the back, in Eli’s handwriting from the letter, were four words: ‘She underestimated my sister.’