My pulse quickens, starting slow and then becoming erratic. The lawyer must be here to discuss my father’s estate. My brothers’ estate.My estate.
The thought of it twists something deep inside me.
Hayden isn’t here. I almost say I’ll wait for him, but the words don’t make it past my lips.
“Let them in,” I say instead, voice steadier than I feel.
I force myself to stand and pull on fresh clothes. Something so normal, like I haven’t spent the last twelve hours drowning in my own mind.
When I enter the sitting room, there's an older and graying man already waiting.
He stands when I walk in, offering me a thin, professional smile.
“Miss Huntington-Russell,” he greets, dipping his head. “I apologize for the early hour, but there are matters that require your immediate attention.”
I nod, motioning for him to sit. I settle into the large chair across from him and help myself to the coffee service already laid out.
“Who sent you?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow as I sip my coffee.
“I represent the firm handling your father’s estate,” he says smoothly. “And your brothers’.”
The air in the room tightens.
“There are details that must be addressed. Transfers, inheritance, legalities.” He pauses, then folds his hands over his briefcase. “And, of course, there is the matter of your uncle.”
My stomach drops.
“My uncle,” I repeat, voice flat.
“Yes,” the lawyer says. “He has, of course, made his claim.”
His claim.
I already know what that means. I already know what he’s going to say next, but I ask anyway.
“And what, exactly, is he claiming?”
The lawyer meets my gaze, expression somber.
“Everything.”
I stand perfectly still, not even blinking. The weight of the word settles over me, heavy and suffocating.
The lawyer clears his throat and straightens slightly. “However, the situation is…complicated.”
I narrow my eyes. “Complicated how?”
He flips open his briefcase and retrieves a folder. “Your father’s will was structured in a way that assumed a particular chain of succession. The estate was meant to pass to your uncle, if, and only if, your brothers were still alive at the time of your father’s death.”
I stare at him. “But they’re not.”
“No,” the lawyer agrees. “They’re not.” He taps the folder lightly. “And because of that, the clause no longer applies.”
A strange silence stretches between us. I don’t speak. I can’t. My mind is still trying to piece everything together.
“What does that mean?” I ask finally.
The lawyer exhales through his nose, flipping through the documents. “It means, Miss Huntington-Russell, that by the precise wording of the will, your uncle was only ever the contingent beneficiary in the event your father passed while his sons were still alive. That did not happen. An extremely unusual circumstance, certainly one your father did not anticipate, but legally speaking…” he slides a document toward me. “The estate is yours.”
