Rebecca sat at the head of the table, hair pulled back tight, eyes fixed on a stack of folders. She didn’t rise to greet me, didn’t offer a smile—only a slight nod. As executor of the estate, she began the formal reading of Patrick’s assets. My name did not appear once.
The Declaration
At the end, an associate cleared his throat and asked about me—Mrs. Sloan. Rebecca barely looked up, her expression unreadable. “There are no remaining distributions assigned to her under the current filing,” she said. Flat. Matter-of-fact. No explanation. No apology. Just a statement that seemed designed to humiliate, all while she smiled with satisfaction.
The Twist
Then the lawyer, a composed man with a reputation for precision, set the papers down on the table. And instead of silence, he laughed.
