What I didn’t know, walking into that living room with my coat still half-on, was that there were two versions of the will in existence: the signed original in Mara Chen’s custody, and the photocopy that Vanessa was holding, from which one page had been removed.
## The Reading
Vanessa sat in Dad’s armchair. She hadn’t asked if anyone minded. It was the kind of move she made without thinking about it, the kind that later, when you tried to describe it to someone else, sounded too small to be significant.
She said a few words about Dad — how he’d been prepared, how he’d told her he’d taken care of things. Then she adjusted her reading glasses and started in on the document.
I was watching her face more than listening to the words, which is probably why I caught the rhythm being off. She was reading too smoothly through certain parts, the kind of smooth that meant she’d already read it to herself more than once. Her voice had the quality of performance rather than discovery.
The will was what you’d expect in its early sections. Last will and testament of Martin George Ellis. Declaration of health and intent. Executor provisions. She read through these clearly and I watched Aunt June nod and Deb make small affirmative sounds like someone listening to a sermon they already agreed with.
Then the distribution.
“He’s leaving the house to be sold,” Vanessa said, “with proceeds to be divided equally between his daughters after legitimate estate expenses.” She paused, as she often did for effect. “And the investment accounts the same way.”