For thirteen years, I had waited. And now, the climax of my agonizing patience was unfolding in this sterile, freezing room.
The heavy door swung open, and Melissa walked in. It was the first time I was seeing her in the flesh, though I had studied hundreds of photographs of her over the past decade. She was exactly twenty minutes behind Victor’s estate attorney.
She didn’t shed a single tear. There was no redness in her eyes, no tremble in her lip. Instead, she carried herself with the indignant impatience of someone waiting in line at a luxury boutique. Hooked over her forearm was a limited-edition Hermès Birkin bag—the exact crocodile leather model I had seen itemized on Victor’s hidden offshore credit card statement three months ago. It cost more than Ethan’s entire college tuition.
I sat in the corner armchair, my hands folded neatly in my lap, and I almost laughed out loud at the sheer, unadulterated audacity of it all.
The attorney, a weaselly man named Harrison who refused to make eye contact with me, opened his thick leather folder. And there, with the hum of the medical equipment serving as a morbid soundtrack, the life I had built, bled for, and sustained was methodically carved up and handed to a stranger.
“As per the revised documents,” Harrison mumbled, adjusting his spectacles, “the majority of the liquid assets, as well as the eight commercial properties held under the Apex Holdings LLC, will be transferred via a living trust to Melissa Vance and her son, Leo.”
Eight properties. The foundation of his wealth. The real estate empire that only existed because I had cosigned his first, desperate loans twenty years ago.
“Furthermore,” Harrison continued, his voice droning on, “the titles to the Mercedes G-Wagon, the Range Rover, and the Porsche 911 are to be signed over today.”
Melissa feigned a look of bashful humility, tucking a perfectly highlighted strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with a ravenous, unrestrained greed. “And… what about the lake house, Victor?” she whispered, stroking his frail, bruised arm. “Leo loves the lake house so much.”
