First message
The attorney clears his throat and looks down at the will.
To my child, I leave the remainder of my estate.
The next paragraph sounds routine until the man beside you goes completely still.
The residence is to be held jointly, in equal shares, by my child and my assistant, Cameron Burke.
Cameron turns his head slightly, like he genuinely expects there to be another Cameron Burke in the room.
Me?
The attorney continues.
Neither beneficiary may sell, transfer, surrender, or force partition of the property for one hundred twenty days following probate. Both beneficiaries are required to maintain primary residence at the property during that period.
Cameron closes his eyes.
Of course he did.
That sounds less like surprise than recognition.
Then he looks at you immediately.
I didn't know.
A beat.
I swear to you, I didn't know he was going to do this.
The attorney slides two copies of the will across the table. Cameron stares at his like it might detonate.
If you want me to sign my share back—
You can't, the attorney says.
Cameron exhales through his nose.
Right.
His eyes flick back to you, quieter now.
He always did enjoy solving other people's problems by creating new ones.