My Wealthy Grandmother Left Me a Single Brass Key and No Inheritance
“My deepest condolences, Emily,” he said, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses, which had fogged slightly in the damp air.
“Thank you, Mr. Bennett,” I said, clearing my throat.
“She was a remarkable woman,” he said, his formal legal jargon slipping away for just a brief second before his face hardened again. “We must ensure the administrative duties are handled with the utmost precision.”
“Linda is inside,” I said, pointing toward the heavy front door.
“I will speak with Linda shortly,” Mr. Bennett said, looking down at his polished shoes. “But first, we must set a date to discuss the estate.”
“Is there a rush?” I asked, looking at the empty driveway.
“The law does not wait for grief, Emily,” he said, his voice returning to its usual dry tone. “We will meet in my office next Friday at ten o’clock.”
“Is that when the will is read?” I asked.
Mr. Bennett did not look at me when he answered.
“Yes,” he said, tapping the lock on his briefcase with one finger. “We will review everything then.”
