William’s lawyer, Mr. Harris, sat across from me looking strangely calm.
“If I inherited nothing,”
I finally asked, “why did you say he knew I would fall into the trap?”
Harris gave me a faint smile.
“Because he knew exactly what you would be thinking at this moment.”
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a letter written in William’s handwriting.
“Dear Laura,
If you’re reading this, then I’m no longer beside you. And if Harris followed my instructions correctly, you’ve just been told that you will receive nothing from my will.
You probably think I deceived you.
But keep reading.”
My hands began to shake.
Beneath the letter, I noticed a photograph.
It was old.
In the picture was a much younger William, probably around forty years old.
He was surrounded by a group of children.
I turned the photograph over.
An address was written on the back.
