Chapter 3 - Nothing
The funeral passed like a dream I couldn't shake myself out of.
A week later I sat across from Mr. Hargrove, my grandmother's lawyer, my hands knotted so tight in my lap my knuckles had gone white.
He cleared his throat and opened the folder in front of him.
"The estate of Eleanor Whitfield," he began, "is to be donated in full to charity."
I blinked, waiting for the rest.
"Her savings, in the amount listed here, go to Rosa Delgado, in gratitude for her decades of service."
My mouth went dry.
"Her jewelry will be divided among the named friends and acquaintances."
I waited. He still hadn't looked up.
"And for me?" I finally asked.
His eyes lifted, slow and careful. "There's no further bequest named in the will. I'm sorry, Hannah."
I walked out of that office in silence, three years collapsing behind me like a hallway with no doors at the end of it, and I couldn't stop wondering what exactly I had handed my life over for.
I drove home in a fog, his words still ringing in my ears.
Three years of my life. And nothing to show for it — not one dollar, not one word of thanks in writing, not one line telling me I'd mattered.
I sat on the edge of my bed and watched the light drain out of the room. Every cold dinner, every sharp comment, every silent breakfast played back like a film I couldn't shut off.
My phone buzzed. Rosa's name lit the screen.
I almost didn't pick up. Then I did.
"Hannah, dear," she said softly. "I just wanted to say how sorry I am. Your grandmother — she always knew exactly what she was doing, you know."
Something in me snapped clean in half.
"She knew what she was doing?" My voice came out louder than I meant it to. "Is that supposed to make me feel better, Rosa?"
"That's not what I meant—"
"I bathed her. I drove her to every single appointment for three years. And you walk away with her savings?"
Silence stretched on the other end. "You don't understand everything yet, Hannah."
"Then explain it to me. Right now."
"I can't. Not over the phone."
I laughed, and it came out bitter and ugly. "Of course you can't. You two whispered behind closed doors for years. I'm not stupid, Rosa. I saw exactly what was happening."
"Hannah, please—"
"Did you talk her out of leaving me anything? Did you tell her I didn't deserve it?"
"I would never do that to you."
"Then why are you the one holding her money and I'm holding nothing?"
The line went dead quiet. Then a small, tired breath.
"Because she asked me to keep a promise," Rosa said. "That's all I'm allowed to say."
I hung up on her. My hands were shaking so hard the phone slid right off the blanket and onto the floor.
May you like
For a second I thought about lawyering up, contesting the will, calling every attorney in the city. Then I remembered I could barely cover next month's rent.
I cried until I fell asleep in my clothes.
