Besides, I’m not here for money. Some little piece of jewelry or a sentimental item to remember my aunt would be nice, but even then, I have this star sapphire she gave me. I’ll be okay. I barely knew her. More of a reminder than this could make me feel even worse for not trying to know her better.
My cousins elbow each other, nodding and smiling when various amounts are revealed, the worth of different accounts and even a couple of rental properties that will be sold so the profits can be divided. It sounds like a lot of money—a life-changing amount of money. I don’t really know my cousins well, but I’m glad for them.
Derick holds up a hand as Ms. Rubio lists another investment account. “You haven’t said anything about Vivienne’s house.”
“I haven’t reached that part of the will yet.” Ms. Rubio raises her eyebrows, as if to ask him if he’s done interrupting.
He lowers his hand, chastised. A few more accounts are mentioned, and it sounds like everything’s being evenly divided between my cousins. It also sounds like Great-Aunt Vivienne was loaded.
I’m starting to feel a little antsy, like an imposter. Maybe I was asked here as a mistake. Or maybe Great-Aunt Vivienne wants to rebuke me from beyond the veil, here in this too-cold conference room, because I was a terrible grandniece who never reached out when she should have. I deserve the rebuke, but that doesn’t mean I want to sit here and wait for it.
“And to my grandniece, Madison Greene.” Ms. Rubio flicks a glance toward me.
I sit up straighter. Here it comes. I brace myself for caustic recriminations.
Ms. Rubio continues, “And to my grandniece Madison Greene, I leave my savings account, the contents of my safe deposit box, and my home at 334 Oak Street, including everything inside of it.”
7
MADISON
The uproar in the conference room is deafening. Crane jumps to his feet, pounding on the table, spittle flying from his mouth as he flings abuse at me, Ms. Rubio, and our dead aunt. Derick shouts several swear words, a dark look in his eyes like he wants to hurt someone or something.
Of the three, Ford looks the least upset. “Guys, look at all the money we got?—”
“You should be more upset, you dumbass.” Crane shoves Ford’s chair, nearly toppling him over. “She’s going to kick you out of your home!”
Ms. Rubio stands. To her credit, she doesn’t yell, yet she makes herself heard. “If you three don’t settle down immediately, I will have security escort you from the building.”
Crane and Derick grumble, but they mellow out. Ford looks embarrassed.
“Now, because Vivienne was prepared for everything,” Ms. Rubio says, “she arranged for much of the work and gifts to be completed while she was alive. This is an unusual case, but all funds are available to you now.”
“What are you saying?” Crane asks.
“I’m saying that checks are waiting for you three at the counter.”
“But the will isn’t fair.” Derick pounds on the table.
“Whether it is fair or not,” Ms. Rubio says, “it is legal. You’re welcome to contest it, although I’d recommend against that.”
Crane elbows Derick, like contesting the will is a good idea.
“If that’s all?” Ms. Rubio asks, standing. “I still need a few words with Ms. Greene.”
I feel like I’m floating, untethered. None of this is real, is it? A house? A savings account? I grip the edge of the conference table, hoping to bring myself back to earth.
“One other thing. You should be aware there is a no-contest clause.” Ms. Rubio checks her watch as she leads my cousins to the door. “You’re free to try to claim more of Vivienne’s assets, but if your claims are unsuccessful, you will lose your entire inheritance.”
Crane’s mouth gapes open. “No-contest clause?”
“That’s a real thing?” Derick’s face goes pale.
“Very real,” Ms. Rubio says.
“Guys.” Ford speaks up from behind them. He glances at me, then down at the floor. “Guys, let’s just go. It isn’t Madison’s fault. These were Vivienne’s wishes?—”
“Shut up, Ford.” Derick stomps from the room, Crane on his heels.
