When the lawyer opened my uncle’s will, my mom leaned back in her chair like she already owned the place.
“Relax, Avery,” she laughed. “We’re family. Of course we’ll all share the millions.”
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My dad sat beside her, nodding slowly like the money was already sitting safely in his account.
The last time they had looked that confident, I was sixteen and they were walking out of our small rental near the shores of Lake Superior in a quiet town called Harbor Point, leaving behind an empty refrigerator, a dead phone, and a short note that basically said I would figure things out on my own.
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I did figure it out, just not in the way they ever imagined.