“What happened if they had a beer?” Fiona asked, staring.
“The remainder of the trust would be split equally between an anti-drunk-driving charity and cancer research,” he said. “In fact, you probably heard about it on the news a few months ago—which is the only reason I can talk about it at all.”
From the look on the other lawyer’s face, Sylvie thought it seemed like he probably shouldn’t be talking about it, regardless.
“So in that situation, who was responsible for monitoring that?” Fiona continued.
William casted a pointed glance at his partner Joe. “Well, in that particular case—as is public knowledge—the man’s ex-wife was less than pleased when she found out how close he was with her sister and hired a private investigator to follow him.”
Ah, Sylvie thought. That would do it.
“This arrangement is a bit different, though,” Joe said, interrupting his partner. “Since it depends on Miss Sweet completing specific tasks, we need to verify that each one has been fulfilled. The late Mrs. Sweet was very clear that all tasks must be completed. However, given that this list was started when Miss Sweet was a teenager, we propose an audit to officially confirm its contents.”
“You’d decide what is and isn’t included?” Sylvie asked, suddenly feeling oddly protective of her mother’s wishes, despite the spiraling implications.
Both lawyers smiled, and William addressed her, casting Fiona a look that made Sylvie narrow her eyes suspiciously. “Well, despite what horror films might lead you to believe, a last will and testament cannot force someone to break the law to get their inheritance. For example, if Miss Sweet, at sixteen, had written in a moment of teenage angst that she wanted to steal the Mona Lisa and toss it in the sea, that would not be enforceable—nor would not doing it count against her.”
Fiona smiled shyly at William and nodded, glancing down at her notes.
Joe cleared his throat. “Similarly, if the list includes items that are not physically or reasonably possible, such as finding the cure for cancer, inventing a working time machine, or achievingXbefore turning twenty, then those would be excluded as well.”
Sylvie wanted to laugh. They were saying all this as though it mattered—as though there was a chance she could complete the list. Even with leniencies, it felt impossible.
“Lilly turns eighteen in January next year,” Sylvie said. “But my mom said something about Fiona’s caretaking in the meantime?”
The lawyers exchanged a glance before Joe replied. “It’s agreed that until either the tasks are finished or Lilly turns eighteen, you and your sister-in-law will be co-caretakers. Any decision about the inn must be approved by both of you.”
She thought that was better than Fiona having full control, but still—did they hear how ridiculous this all sounded?
“So, if I want to change the wall color in the hallway?” Sylvie asked.
“Fifty-fifty voting power,” William confirmed.
“Does Lilly get a say in this?” Fiona asked.
“The late Mrs. Sweet felt that, as she is your child, giving her voting power would only lead to disagreement,” Joe explained slowly.
“No, I mean any of it. What if she doesn’t want it? What if I refuse to play along?”
Joe nodded in understanding. “If she declines the inheritance, Mrs. Sweet instructed that the inn be sold and the proceeds donated to a range of causes. If you decline to serve as caretaker, the same outcome applies.”
“Okay, so what if she doesn’t want to live in this horrible place, that’s hotter than the devil’s sauna and filled with memories of her dead father, for a whole year?” Fiona’s voice rose sharply, louder than it had been all meeting.
For the first time, William looked less smug. Sylvie turned her eyes away, inhaling deeply. She had no idea how to calm Fiona, but she was certain staring wouldn’t help.
“Well, uh—”
“I do.” Lilly stepped into the room, causing all the adults to turn and look at her.
Fiona’s eyes widened in surprise, then quickly narrowed, matching the obvious disapproval lining her furrowed brow. “Lilly! What’s gotten into you? Eavesdropping? How much did you hear?”
Lilly, looking undeterred, crossed her arms over her chest and eyed her mother. “Everything. Aunt Sylvie has to do a bunch of life stuff, or I get her inheritance. Anyway, is it still considered eavesdropping when it’s about me?”
Sylvie didn’t care to get involved, but she figured she already was, so she took the opportunity to speak up. “Well, yes, I think by definition, it is. But I see your point. How did you even know this meeting concerned you?”
Lilly laughed sardonically. “Oh, please! You two have been at each other’s throats like boxers in a ring since we arrived. But today? You’ve barely even looked at each other. And you were all so secretive about this meeting that I thought it was the will reading. Then I remembered you said everyone concerned had to be present for that, and—”
“And you thought your grandmother would leave you something?” Fiona finished for her. “Well, she hasn’t. Not really.”
