Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I dropped my head back against the wall. “Why did this happen? They were both so happy, and Evelyn was back to her normal self. Why?”
Brystol sniffled and wiped her tears away. “I don’t know. But what I do know is this baby no longer has any parents. Our job moving forward is to protect her…or him…to make sure they know who their parents were, and to…”
Her voice trailed off. When I lifted my head to look at her, she was staring at me.
“Did they have a will?”
“I’m sure they did. I just don’t know if they updated it.”
Brystol’s breathing had increased slightly, and she looked away. With a long exhale, she said, “We need to call their office on Friday morning.”
I nodded as I stood. “Let’s get you off this cold floor and into bed.”
Brystol stood, and we walked hand in hand to her bedroom. We both got ready in silence. When we finally climbed into bed, Brystol rolled onto her side, and I drew her to me. When she started to cry again, I held her a bit tighter, and let my own tears fall as well.
Brystol
I’d always assumed that people gathered in a stuffy office when someone passed away and a lawyer read the will. That wasn’t the case. There was no official reading at all. Apparently, that was mainly only done in movies.
Evelyn and Denny did have a will, and it was updated after the confirmed pregnancy. Gavin and I were currently walking up to the building in Lake Placid that housed the law firm of Hoffman and Bryer. Mr. Thomas Hoffman was a probate lawyer who’d gone to law school with Evelyn and Denny. Turns out, we didn’t have to call their office that Friday because Mr. Hoffman called me first.
Denny had given Gavin a letter a few months back, with his and Evelyn’s wishes on what to do if anything should happen to them. Evelyn and Denny had stipulated if anything should happen to either of them. They wanted to be cremated, and their ashes spread out to sea, preferably off the coast of Massachusetts. Denny had made all of those arrangements, and I loved him even more for doing so. Selfishly, I was glad we didn’t have to go through the process of a funeral. I wasn’t sure it was something I could do.
“You okay?” Gavin asked as we stopped outside suite 200.
“I think so.”
He gave my hand a light squeeze, and we walked in. The receptionist looked up and smiled warmly. Her blond hair was cut in a cute bob, and her blue eyes were warm and calming.
“Ms. Duggan, Mr. Quinn?”
We both nodded, and Gavin replied, “Yes.”
Standing, she walked around her desk. “First, let me give you my condolences. Mr. and Mrs. McCain were such wonderful people.”
I swallowed back my sob.
“If you’ll have a seat in here, Mr. Hoffman will be right in,” she said, escorting us into a small conference room.
“Thank you,” I said, as Gavin pulled out a chair for me at the table.
“Would you like anything to drink?” the young woman asked.
“Water for me, please,” I replied.
Gavin smiled politely. “Nothing for me.”
The door shut, and we both looked around the room.
“The night they died,” Gavin started to say, staring at a framed photo of New York City. “I told Declan I wasn’t sure how they were going to be able to travel back and forth to Boston so much with a newborn.”
I watched him as he spoke, not taking his eyes off the photo.
“I made a mental note to ask Denny about it. Would they stay in Moose Village, or did they plan to return to Boston?”
“They were going to move back to Boston,” I said softly.
Gavin snapped his head around to look at me. “What?”
“Evelyn told me they planned on keeping their house in Moose Village, but they’d be moving to Boston full time. I think their firm had wanted them there full time anyway, so it would have happened with or without the baby.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I ran my finger in a circular pattern on the wood table. “Evelyn asked me not to. She said Denny wanted to be the one to tell you.”
“They were planning on taking the baby away from us?”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed sadly. “It’s their baby.”
He smiled slightly and shook his head. “I guess they would’ve had that right.”
All I could do was nod and whisper, “Yeah.”
The door to the conference room opened, and a man about our age entered. He had short brown hair and dark eyes. He wore black slacks, a blue button-down shirt, and a blue tie. His polite smile didn’t reach his eyes, though.
“Thank you both for coming in. I’m Thomas Hoffman,” he said, placing a file in front of him and reaching his hand across the table to each of us in turn. “I’m sorry for your loss.”