Carter stood frozen, his phone still in his hand, as if the world had just tilted and he was the only one who hadn’t been warned. Lauren’s confident posture cracked for the first time—her hand slipped from her stomach, her eyes darting between us, searching for something to hold onto.
“…What did she mean?” Carter finally said, his voice dry, almost unrecognizable.
I didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, I reached for my glass of water, took a slow sip, and let the moment stretch. For months, I had been the one caught off guard. The one reacting. The one trying to piece together a reality that didn’t make sense.
Not anymore.
“What she meant,” I said calmly, “is that your grandfather was a much smarter man than you ever bothered to realize.”
Lauren frowned. “Natalie, this isn’t the time for cryptic—”
“Oh, I think it’s exactly the time,” I cut in, my voice still soft but now edged with something sharper. “Because the two of you walked in here expecting a scene. Tears. Maybe begging. Instead, you got… paperwork.”
