Instead, people walked along the beach.
A child dragged a yellow bucket through the sand.
A couple stood barefoot near the water.
Normal life everywhere.
That almost made it worse.
I looked down at Michael’s envelope.
“Why now?”
Susan sat only after I pointed to the chair farthest from me.
She moved like someone entering a courtroom.
“Because of Michael’s will.”
There it was again.
The will.
I had already gone through probate.
Or believed I had.
Michael and I were comfortable, not spectacularly wealthy.
The house was paid off.
Retirement accounts.
Savings.
Insurance.
Nothing that should have required a secret daughter to appear eleven months later.
“I saw the will.”
“You saw the primary will.”
My head snapped toward her.
“What does that mean?”
Susan looked at Emily.
Emily answered.
“There’s a trust.”
I stared at her.
“What trust?”
“Michael created it years ago.”
“For you?”
