I didn’t answer. I stood there with my keys still in my hand, my heart beating too loudly in my ears, as if my body was trying to warn me.
The lawyer opened a leather folder and adjusted his glasses. He introduced himself, but his name slid right past me. All I could see was the folder, thick and official looking, resting on his knee like a verdict.
Ezoic
He said he was there to read the will. He didn’t ask me to sit down. No one did.
I stayed where I was, near the door, as if my body already knew I might need to leave quickly.
He began to read. His voice was calm, measured, professional, the kind of voice that never breaks, even when lives do.
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