*After I refused to give my mom my inheritance, she invited me to a family meeting. When I arrived, they had lawyers ready to force me to sign it over. But the moment they handed me the papers, I smiled and said: . «Funny, I brought someone too»

Frances, she beamed, hair freshly styled, teeth glinting like a campaign poster. Right on time! Inside, the living room was arranged like a deposition. Corinne sat on the edge of the couch, spine stiff, hands knotted in her lap, Mason beside her, eyes down.

My stepfather hovered near the fireplace like a bouncer. And there they were, two suited men seated in the armchairs usually reserved for family. Legal pads, briefcases, wedding band tans on their left hands, smiles too wide.

This is Mr. Hale and Mr. Darnell, my mother said, gesturing grandly. They’ve kindly offered to help us untangle this unfortunate misunderstanding. I nodded but didn’t offer a handshake.

I wasn’t here to play polite. Only one chair was open, a high-backed wooden one placed squarely across from the mall. Interrogation seating.

I sat without a word and laid my leather folder across my lap. Would you like some coffee? My mother asked again, still stuck on her desperate illusion of civility. I’m fine.

Let’s get to it. Mr. Hale cleared his throat. We’re here today because your family is deeply concerned about the strain this has caused.

No one wants a prolonged dispute, especially when your grandfather’s intention was clearly for the family to stay united. I let the silence stretch. He wrote a will! My mother jumped in, her voice honeyed and firm.

And we’re not disputing that, sweetheart, but surely you can agree that splitting everything between us would be more… harmonious. Harmony wasn’t in the will either. Mr. Darnell opened his briefcase, sliding a stack of documents across the table.

This is a voluntary redistribution agreement. You retain a healthy percentage, twenty percent. The rest returns to the family, as was always understood.

Understood by whom? Corinne finally spoke. Grandpa was sick, Francis. He wasn’t thinking clearly.

He… he thought you’d know what to do. I do know, I said calmly, which is why I won’t be signing that. Mason stirred.

Mom says if we don’t sort this now, we might lose the house. And why is that? I asked, still calm. Did someone take out a second mortgage again? My mother’s expression cracked for a split second, before snapping back into place.

Francis, don’t do this! Mr. Hale jumped in. It would be unfortunate if this moved to court. Claims of undue influence could muddy the estate’s reputation.

There it was. The threat. Dressed up in legalese and polished leather.

I placed my hand on the thing. I looked at Craig. Six months ago, you mentioned to Grandpa’s nurse that you’d already put a deposit on a property in Naples…