“June also signed a codicil to her will, three weeks before she passed. I’ll read it now.”
My father’s face went gray.
“Any heir who misused my power of attorney forfeits their inheritance. My house on Elm Street goes to Nora, who lived in it, cared for me in it, and never once asked me for a dime.”
The hall erupted in whispers.
Brittany was staring at the will in Mr. Kessler’s hand.
“Wait,” she said. “What about my four hundred thousand dollars?”
Mr. Kessler looked at her kindly.
“The account your grandmother left you is empty, Brittany. And the farmhouse now carries a loan of three hundred and eighty thousand dollars. One your grandmother never agreed to.”
Brittany turned to our father.
“You took my inheritance?”
“I was going to pay it back,” he said.
Nobody believed him.
Not even my mother.
Mr. Langford set his coffee cup down very carefully.
