THE DAY I INHERITED MY GRANDFATHER’S HOUSE—AND MY FAMILY TURNED ON ME

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a message from Grandpa’s lawyer, Silas Norridge. “Royston, please call me when you can. I need to go over some details of the will with you.”

I dialed him immediately. Silas answered in his slow, deliberate voice. “Royston, first, I’m so sorry for your loss. Your grandfather was one of a kind.”

“Thank you,” I said, choking up. “He was.”

“I’ll need you to come into the office this week, but there’s something you should know right now. The house wasn’t the only thing he left you.”

I froze. “What do you mean?”

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