he Second Will Chapter 08
My sister-in-law suddenly stood up.
“Enough!”
She pointed at the lawyer.
“What’s the point of reading all this here? The first part of the will clearly states that the house goes to Robert, and the savings go to Eleanor. It’s already signed. Why are you reading this now – “
She turned to me.
“You set this up, didn’t you? You colluded with the lawyer?”
I didn’t say anything.
My sister-in-law walked up to me, looking down at me condescendingly.
“Julian, we all know you took care of Dad for three years. But you did that voluntarily. No one forced you.”
She looked around the room.
“You lived off Dad and stayed in this house for three years. Now that Dad is gone, what more do you want?”
Third Uncle nodded.
“Chloe has a point…”
Second Uncle pondered: “This will… is indeed William’s intention…”
Auntie sighed, looking at me as if she wanted to say something but stopped.
The relatives’ gazes swept back and forth over me.
With complex expressions.
Some showed sympathy, but mostly it was – “Let it go.”
“Stop making a fuss.”
“A will is a will.”
My sister-in-law got more worked up as she spoke.
“Do you think you deserve a share of the inheritance just because you took care of Dad for three years? That was your duty! Who asked you to be his son? Who asked you to be unmarried and childless? If you didn’t take care of him, who would?”
Her voice grew sharper.
“Robert is out there making money, supporting a whole family, do you think that’s easy? The seventy-two thousand he gave Dad was squeezed out of his own tight budget!”
She pointed right at my nose.
“What right do you have to fight with us?”
I looked at her.
Looked for five seconds.
Then, I smiled.
My sister-in-law froze for a moment.
“What are you smiling at?”
“I’m smiling at you.”
I said.
“You’re too impatient.”
I turned to the lawyer.
“Mr. Sterling, please continue.”
The lawyer pushed up his glasses.
“Alright.”
He picked up the piece of paper.
“Page four, part two.”
He read:
“The two commercial properties located at No. 18 and No. 22 Independence Boulevard, Downtown District – “
Robert’s face changed.
“What?”
The lawyer continued:
” – in June 2022, legally transferred to the youngest son, Julian.”
The living room fell quiet.
Dead quiet.
“The transfer procedures were handled by myself in person, legal and valid. The above commercial properties do not belong to the estate and are not included in the distribution of this will.”
I saw Robert’s face.
It went from pale to ashen.
My sister-in-law’s mouth hung open, unable to utter a single word.
Independence Boulevard.
The best commercial street in the Downtown District.
Two commercial properties.
One 72 square meters, the other 56 square meters.
Market value –
I knew.
Because when the transfer happened, I signed the appraisal report.
The two combined, 5.2 million.
In the third month after his stroke, my father had me push his wheelchair to the notary office.
His speech was still very slurred that day.
But he pointed at the words on the document, tapping them one by one.
The notary asked him: “Mr. Harrison, do you confirm that you want to transfer these two properties to Julian?”
My father nodded.
Very hard.
He nodded three times.
The notary asked again: “Are you making this decision voluntarily and in a clear state of mind?”
My father opened his mouth.
With great effort, he managed to say one sentence.
“He… is the only one… who stayed.”
That day, on the way pushing him home.
He held my hand.
His fingers gripped hard.
He was crying.
Tears flowed down the wrinkles on his face.
He couldn’t speak.
But I understood.
I had always understood.
