Chương 7
If Curtis tried to erase me while believing nobody could stop him, then Curtis would lose control of the inheritance he had been waiting for.
The final paragraph was harder to read.
Do not take money because you hate him, Arthur wrote.
Do not refuse it because you are afraid people will say you earned it by changing my sheets.
You earned my trust long before I signed anything.
What you do next is yours.
I lowered the pages.
No one spoke.
My fingers had begun to tremble again.
Curtis broke the silence first.
“Well?”
I folded the pages along the original creases.
“It was private.”
His face reddened.
“That letter affects my estate.”
“No.”
“My father wrote it about me.”
“He wrote it to me.”
“Vanessa.”
Samuel intervened.
“The letter is personal and not part of the dispositive instrument.”
Curtis turned on him.
“You’re enjoying this.”
Samuel’s expression did not change.
“I buried my oldest friend three days ago.”
That stopped everyone.
Even Melissa looked down.
Samuel removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
For the first time that morning, he looked old.
Not polished.
Not controlled.
Just tired.
“I am not enjoying any part of this.”
He put his glasses back on.
“Arthur spent his final months worrying about a son he loved and did not trust.”
Curtis’s mouth tightened.
“You don’t get to say that.”
“I did not say it lightly.”
“You poisoned him against me.”
Samuel looked at him.
“No.”
Curtis stood again.
Melissa did not try to stop him this time.
“My father loved me.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t sit there acting like he hated me.”
“I never said he hated you.”
“Then what is this?”
He slapped the page with the back of his fingers.
“This is punishment.”
Samuel’s voice remained quiet.
“It was protection.”
“For her.”
“For your father’s intentions.”
Curtis looked at me.
His face was pale again.
“Do you want this?”
The question caught me off guard.
“What?”
“Do you actually want half of everything he built?”
I opened my mouth and found no answer ready.
That seemed to make him stronger.
He stepped closer to the table.
“You didn’t build Bennett Residential.”
“No.”
“You didn’t negotiate the land deals.”
“No.”
“You didn’t spend weekends at construction sites when I was a kid.”
“No.”
“You didn’t watch him risk bankruptcy twice.”
“No.”
“So you think it belongs to you because you sat beside his bed?”
Melissa spoke sharply.
“Curtis, stop.”
But I answered him.
“No.”
He blinked.
“I don’t think it belongs to me because I cared for him.”
“Then waive it.”
The words came instantly.
Too instantly.
“Curtis.”
“Why not?”
He looked around the table as though he had found the obvious solution everyone else was too foolish to see.
“She says she doesn’t think she earned it, so waive it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You just did.”
“I said caregiving isn’t why.”
“Then why?”
I looked at the envelope in my hands.
“I don’t know yet.”
His face hardened.
“That’s convenient.”
Something inside me settled.
Maybe it was the letter.
Maybe it was exhaustion.
Maybe I was finally too tired to keep explaining myself to a man who only listened when money was involved.
“I spent ten years answering you fast enough to keep you comfortable,” I said.
Curtis stared at me.
“I’m not doing that today.”
Melissa closed her folder.
“We need a recess.”
Samuel nodded.
“Agreed.”
Curtis pointed toward me.
“She cannot make any election until my challenge is resolved.”
Samuel’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
“There is no immediate election for her to make.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure you do.”
Curtis turned to Melissa.
“Come on.”
She stayed seated.
“I need five minutes with Samuel.”
“What for?”
“Legal matters.”
“I’m the legal matter.”
“Go downstairs.”
He looked stunned.
She lowered her voice.
“Curtis, go get coffee.”
For a second, I thought he might refuse simply because someone had told him what to do.
Then he grabbed his phone and walked out.
The door shut harder than necessary.
I heard his footsteps continue down the corridor.
Melissa waited until they faded.
Then she looked at me.
“Vanessa.”
I braced myself.
She sighed.
“I’m not your lawyer.”
“I know.”
“I have ethical obligations to my client.”
“I understand.”
“But you should get counsel today.”
Samuel nodded.
“I told her the same thing when I sent notice.”
Melissa glanced at him.
“You said no such thing in the letter.”
“I wanted her in the room before Curtis knew the scope of the provision.”
That caught my attention.
“Why?”
Samuel looked at me.
“Because after Arthur died, Curtis called me three times before the funeral.”
I felt my shoulders tighten.
“What did he ask?”
“Whether the will remained unchanged.”
Melissa’s mouth pressed into a thin line.
Samuel continued.
“He also asked whether a surviving spouse would have any independent right to trust property if divorce proceedings were initiated immediately.”
My stomach turned.
Melissa looked genuinely surprised.
“When?”
“The morning after Arthur died.”
She stared at the table.
“He did not tell me that.”
“I assumed he had separate advice.”
“He didn’t.”
Samuel’s expression said he found that difficult to believe.
Melissa noticed.
“So far as I know.”
I looked toward the closed door.
The memory of Curtis at the funeral returned.
The silk handkerchief.
The careful tears.
The hand on my back when people approached.
At one point, he had leaned toward me and whispered that the florist had used the wrong lilies.
I had thought grief was making him obsess over details.
Now I wondered whether he had already decided where I would sleep afterward.
A sour feeling rose in my throat.
“I need some air.”
Samuel stood.
“Take whatever time you need.”
I slipped Arthur’s letter into my purse and walked into the corridor.
The elevators were at the far end.
May you like
I did not want to risk seeing Curtis, so I pushed through the door marked STAIRS.
The stairwell smelled faintly of concrete dust and old paint.
