“I know.”
He stepped inside carrying a thick envelope.
I looked at it.
“No. I don’t want…”
“You don’t know what this is,” he interrupted.
He placed the envelope on the table.
Then he looked directly at me.
“Did Thomas ask you to stay for his final week?”
I frowned.
“Yes.”
“And you stayed willingly?”
“Why does that matter?”
David slid the envelope toward me.
“Susan…”
His expression became serious.
“You walked straight into your father’s trap.”
My hand stopped above the envelope.
“What trap?”
David sat down.
“He left very specific instructions.”
I didn’t touch the envelope.
“He knew exactly what you would do once you came here.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He made sure you couldn’t reject what he set in motion without seeing it first.”
I finally opened the envelope.
The first page wasn’t a check.
It wasn’t a deed.
It wasn’t even addressed to me.
It was a board resolution.
I looked at David.
“What is this?”
“The moment you completed the seventh day here willingly, the transfer became irrevocable.”
I stared at the page.
“Transfer of what?”
“Most of Thomas’s estate now belongs to the foundation.”
I looked up.
“Because I stayed?”
“Because you stayed.”
“And Caroline?”
“Caroline is provided for.”
I kept reading.
A charitable foundation.
A residential transition program.
Scholarships.
Employment support.
Housing assistance.
I stopped.
“What does this have to do with me?”
David pointed to one paragraph.
“Thomas left one board seat vacant.”
“No.”
“You haven’t heard the rest.”
“I don’t need to.”
I shoved the papers back toward him.
“He doesn’t get to abandon me and then assign me homework from the grave.”
David nodded.
“He knew you’d say that.”
