The following Monday, we arranged to meet our father at his favorite diner. The place was familiar, a staple of our childhood, filled with the clatter of dishes and the aroma of fresh coffee.
He arrived late, as usual, his demeanor as unruffled as ever. « What’s all this about? » he asked, a benign smile on his face as he slid into the booth.
« We found the new will, » I said, cutting straight to the point.
His expression shifted slightly, but he maintained his composure. « Ah, yes, I meant to discuss that with you, » he replied, reaching for his coffee cup.
« Why didn’t you tell us? » Emily asked, her voice laced with a mix of hurt and confusion.
« I had my reasons, » he said, his tone suggesting the discussion was closed.
We pressed on, but his answers were vague, evasive. The conversation felt like walking through a fog, each step forward revealing nothing but more obscurity.
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