My Wealthy Grandmother Left Me a Single Brass Key and No Inheritance
The watch face pointed toward the empty wall, its glass cover reflecting the dull sky outside.
A worn blue velvet chair sat empty in the corner, its cushions still holding the slight indentation of where Linda had sat during her night watch.
“I will call the doctor now,” Linda said, her hand resting on the edge of the mattress.
“Was she in pain?” I asked, clearing my throat before the words would come.
Linda did not answer my question, but instead picked up the silver watch and slid it into her apron pocket.
“We should have called Mr. Bennett last night,” I whispered, twisting the plain silver band on my finger.
Linda stopped smoothing her apron for a single second, her eyes fixing on mine.
“Mr. Bennett cannot help her now,” she said.
She walked past me into the corridor, her soft-soled shoes making no sound at all on the floorboards.
I looked back at the bed, where the woman who had ruled my family for eighty-one years now lay perfectly still.
