I ushered Grandma into the passenger seat, buckling her seatbelt with extra care before stepping a few feet away into the parking garage shadow. My throat burned with suppressed fury as I dialed our family’s long-time estate attorney, Mr. Harrison.
“David,” I said, keeping my voice low and dangerous. “Grandma just rang the victory bell. Alone. Not a single one of them showed up.”
There was a heavy silence on the line before Harrison let out a slow, disappointed sigh. “I’m sorry, Leo. She deserved better than that.”
“She built their lives,” I snapped, watching her adjust her hat in the side mirror. “She gave them their houses, their seed money, their trust funds. And they couldn’t spare twenty minutes to watch her survive.”
“So, what do you want to do?” Harrison asked quietly. “The revision paperwork is already drafted.”
I looked back at her fragile frame through the windshield and made the decision that would shatter the family completely. What trap did I set in motion with the attorney? Continue reading Part 3 below to find out.
