My Wealthy Grandmother Left Me a Single Brass Key and No Inheritance
“She was writing to Mr. Bennett,” I said, watching her reflection in the dark kitchen window.
“Mr. Bennett is her attorney,” Linda said, finally turning to face me.
“He handles the estate affairs, which do not concern you.”
“They do concern me if I am living here under a promise,” I said, my voice rising slightly.
“You must trust that Margaret knows what she is doing,” Linda said.
“She has always had a plan for this house.”
“A plan that includes secrets between the two of you?” I asked.
“It is not my place to discuss her private business,” Linda said.
She walked to the pantry and closed the door behind her, leaving me alone with the quiet hum of the kitchen.
The next afternoon, the sky was the color of wet slate when I walked into the local pharmacy on Main Street.
I needed to refill Margaret’s prescription for her cough medicine, a small brown bottle that cost twelve dollars.
As I reached the counter, a man in a dark grey overcoat stepped out from the aisle of reading glasses.
