collection — all of it to Arthur’s three children.
“The primary estate leaves no monetary assets to Camille,” John said.
Deborah leaned back in her chair. “Nothing?”
“No money.”
She looked at Camille with the satisfied expression of someone who has been patient for a long time and has finally arrived at the moment they were waiting for.
“You wasted two years.”
Camille breathed in slowly. She had told herself she didn’t care. Mostly, she didn’t. But there was a particular quality to the humiliation of being called greedy while sitting with nothing in your hands. She felt it anyway, and she let herself feel it rather than pretend she didn’t.
She stood.
“If we’re finished, I’ll go.”
“Not yet,” the attorney said.
Deborah frowned. “The estate is settled, John.”
“The primary estate is settled,” he said carefully. “Arthur also left instructions regarding a separate property.”
Alfred sat forward. “What property?”
The attorney opened a second envelope.
Deborah’s eyes went to it immediately. “What is that?”
“A separate instruction. This asset was never part of Arthur’s estate because it was not Arthur’s to leave. It belonged to Sophia.”
“Our mother?” Deborah’s voice changed. “Then it comes to us.”
“Sophia held the property in her own name. Arthur held a life estate after her passing, but Sophia left written instructions for what should happen upon Arthur’s death.”
“Then it should come to us, John,” Norman said.
“No.”
Alfred sat up straighter.
The attorney unfolded a letter — handwritten, older paper, the ink slightly faded.
“Sophia wrote: ‘If Arthur ever finds another woman who brings peace back into his life, give her the cottage. Not as payment. Not as charity. But as shelter. As a home should belong to the person who understands why it matters.’”
Camille gripped the cardboard box in her lap.
