Part 2: Two days later, we met inside the mahogany office of Mr. Henderson, the estate attorney. The room smelled of old documents and greed.
He began with the usual legal wording. Then he reached the inheritance.
“To my son, Robert, and his wife, Linda, I leave the contents of my storage unit in Queens, including the family photo albums and my porcelain cat collection.”
My father blinked.
“That’s… that’s just the beginning, right?”
“That is the full bequest,” Mr. Henderson said evenly.
“What?” my mother cried. “What about the investment portfolio? The Brooklyn brownstone? The trust?”
