He simply opened another folder.
Inside were photographs.
My father standing at a mailbox.
My father carrying envelopes into the house.
My father shredding papers.
My father throwing something into a trash bin.
The dates were printed beneath every photograph.
Six years ago.
Five years ago.
Four years ago.
Three.
Two.
One.
My hands began to tremble.
“He knew,” I whispered.
“He knew your grandfather was trying to reach you.”
Richard nodded.
“And he made sure you never knew.”
I looked away.
For eighteen years, I had believed my grandfather had abandoned us.
I had spent birthdays wondering why I had no grandparents.
I had told myself maybe he didn’t want me.
Maybe he didn’t care.
Maybe I wasn’t worth finding.
But the truth was worse.
Someone had made sure I believed I wasn’t worth finding.
My father.
I swallowed hard.
“So what’s the condition?”
Richard took a deep breath.
“Your grandfather didn’t want you to simply inherit his fortune.”
“What did he want?”
“He wanted you to understand what you were inheriting.”
I frowned.
Richard handed me another document.
It was the final page of the will.
I read the first paragraph.
Then the second.
Then the third.
My heart began racing.
“What does this mean?”
Richard pointed to a sentence.
“Your grandfather left you the estate on one condition.”
I read it again.
Nathan Brooks must not return to the family home for thirty days.
I looked up.
“That’s it?”
“No.”
Richard’s voice became quieter.
“There is another requirement.”
“What?”
“You must remain financially independent during those thirty days.”
I stared at him.
“You mean I can’t use the inheritance?”
“Correct.”
“No money from the accounts?”
“Correct.”
“No credit cards?”
“Correct.”
“No property?”
“Correct.”
“Then how am I supposed to survive?”
Richard looked toward my car.
“You already have been.”
I almost laughed.
“This is insane.”
“It gets worse.”
Of course it did.
Richard opened the final folder.
“Your grandfather wanted to know what you would do if you believed you had nothing.”
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
