The letter from the lawyer had arrived like a whisper from the past, pulling me out of the quiet routine of my days at the library. Aunt Lydia, whom I'd barely known beyond childhood visits and holiday cards, had left me her remote cabin in the woods of upstate New York. No explanation, just the keys and a vague note about it being a place for 'solitude and secrets.' At forty-three, with Mason off to grad school and the h...