Ross laughed, but it wasn’t because anything was funny. It was the nervous laugh of a man realizing the ground beneath him was shifting. Whit pointed toward the envelope Diane was holding. “That’s what the envelope is for.” She stared at the first line: By the time you read this, Diane, you have already put your stickers on the furniture. She quickly folded it. “That’s not funny.” “No,” Whit replied. “It isn’t.” Then Michael, the strange man in the gray suit, placed a briefcase on the table and revealed that Frank had instructed him to deliver documents after the funeral.

I finally looked at Ross and said what I had been afraid to say all day. “This is my house.” He stared at me as though I had spoken another language. Whit opened a folder and explained that Frank had updated his will months earlier. Diane and Ross had come into my home expecting to divide their father’s belongings, but Frank had apparently anticipated exactly what they would do. Then Whit told them to finish reading their letters first. Diane unfolded hers again, and the first words made the entire room go silent. Click continue reading below