The lawyer’s office was as I remembered it—cool and impersonal, with its leather chairs and the soft hum of the air conditioning. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the flutter of nerves in my stomach. « Just a routine check-up, » I reminded myself as I waited for Mr. Grayson, the lawyer handling my late aunt’s estate. He finally emerged from his office, a man in his late forties with a practiced smile that seemed to barely touch his eyes.
« Good to see you again, » he said with a nod, extending a hand for a brief shake before gesturing me into his office. I followed, heart pounding just a bit faster than before. The folder with my name was already waiting on his desk, a silent witness to whatever was about to unfold.
« We’ve made good progress, » Mr. Grayson began, flipping open the folder. « Just a few things we need your signature on. » He slid a document across the desk to me. I glanced at it, expecting the usual formalities. Instead, my eyes snagged on a figure that seemed out of place—$12,500 in legal fees.
« Wait, » I said, my voice cracking slightly, « This can’t be right. That’s… that’s a lot more than we discussed. » I pointed at the line item, hoping he would see the error.
Mr. Grayson peered over his glasses, his expression unchanging. « It’s all there, » he replied smoothly. « You agreed to the terms when we started. » His words were like a cold breeze, chilling the room despite the air conditioning.
My heart sank. Had I really missed this? I thought back to our initial meeting, the paperwork, the rushed explanations. The details had seemed straightforward, but now, they felt like a trap. I picked up the pen, my hand trembling. Signing it meant accepting the charges, but refusing might mean further delays—or worse.
« Can we discuss this? » I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Mr. Grayson leaned back, folding his hands in his lap. « Of course, » he said, but his tone suggested otherwise. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in. I glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing time was slipping away, and with it, my options. I wished I had been more cautious, more prepared. But now, I was at the mercy of the man across the desk, his calm demeanor only amplifying my growing anxiety.
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