ADVERTISEMENT
Watching them felt unbearable. I wanted to tell everyone the truth—that they hadn’t visited Richard in months, and that their last interaction with him had been a request for money to cover yet another disastrous business decision. But I said nothing. In the Ashford family order, I barely existed—the quiet son, too gentle for my father’s standards and too uninterested in status for my mother’s ambitions.
A week later, I was called to the reading of the will. Sitting in the offices of Harper & Associates, I felt out of place in my simple suit. Glenn Harper, my grandfather’s longtime friend, sat behind his desk looking exhausted, grief still heavy in his eyes. He told me Richard had been deeply concerned about my future and wanted to make sure I could live without being controlled by my parents. Then he broke the red wax seal. The sharp crack echoed through the room.
ADVERTISEMENT
