“I’m… trying,” I replied honestly.
My father gestured for me to sit down.
“We’ve been worried about you.”
Marina squeezed my hand gently.
“We’re here for you.”
I sat and watched them as they transformed their expressions into gestures of compassion.
My father leaned forward.
“Claire, we need to talk about practical matters. Matters of inheritance. You shouldn’t have to deal with this alone.”
My mother nodded.
“You’re in mourning. Let us take care of everything.”
Marina added: “Gideon’s finances are complicated. Especially the properties in Manhattan. People could take advantage of you.”
I lowered my gaze and pretended to be insecure.
“Okay,” I whispered.
My father visibly relaxed.
He opened a drawer and took out a folder that had clearly been prepared beforehand. Inside were documents and a pen.
“A lawyer friend set up a family trust for us,” he explained. “That way everything will be safe.”
I stared at the folder without moving.
“Just sign,” Marina said softly. “Then you can rest.”
I picked up the pen.
My mother smiled as if she had already won.
Then I said quietly, “Before I sign anything, I should call Gideon’s lawyer. He told me never to sign any documents without him.”
The atmosphere in the room changed instantly.
“That’s not necessary,” my father said brusquely. “We’re family.”
“I know,” I replied gently. “But he insisted.”
Marina’s smile hardened.
“Claire, don’t complicate things more than necessary.”
“I’m not,” I said calmly. “I’m just being careful.”
I stood up as if I were going to make the phone call in private.
Instead, I went to the coat closet by the front door and took out a small envelope that Gideon’s lawyer had given me earlier that day.
When I returned to the table, my father frowned.
“What’s that?”
I placed the document on the table and slid it toward them.
“That’s why,” I said calmly, “you’re not going to be in charge of anything.”
I turned the page.
It was not Gideon’s will.
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