Noah leaned his elbows on the wooden counter. “We are the minors. I’m Noah, and this is Eric. We have our driver’s licenses.”
He slid his ID across the wood, but the clerk didn’t touch it.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “The records were sealed by a court order signed by the personal representative, Clara Vance, when the guardianship was closed. You can’t access them without a petition to unseal.”
“Why would she seal them?” I asked.
“The petition says it was to protect the privacy of the children regarding financial assets,” the clerk said, her voice dropping to a professional murmur. “But once they’re sealed, they stay sealed unless a judge signs off.”
I looked over her shoulder at the screen, trying to read the tiny green letters. “Is there a dollar amount listed on the index?”
“Only the initial deposit record from the state,” she said, squinting again. “But the ledger itself is part of the sealed file.”
