Chapter 10
“I guess I just don’t understand how this works…legally speaking,” Fiona said, her professional tone somehow grating to Sylvie.
The lawyers had arrived and much had been said without actually addressing the central topic—until finally, there was nothing left to discuss but that.
William, one of the lawyers, cleared his throat.
“Well, this one is, I admit, a little unusual in its theme, but the general idea of conditional inheritance is not uncommon. The most common cases we see involve trusts that become accessible when the named person graduates from college or gets married. We had one a few years ago that required the trustee and the family accountant to set up a yearly allowance, but only payable if the recipient refrained from smoking or drinking.”
“What happened if they had a beer?” Fiona asked, staring.
“The remainder of the trust would be split equally between an anti-drunk-driving charity and cancer research,” he said. “In fact, you probably heard about it on the news a few months ago—which is the only reason I can talk about it at all.”
From the look on the other lawyer’s face, Sylvie thought it seemed like he probably shouldn’t be talking about it, regardless.
“So in that situation, who was responsible for monitoring that?” Fiona continued.
William casted a pointed glance at his partner Joe. “Well, in that particular case—as is public knowledge—the man’s ex-wife was less than pleased when she found out how close he was with her sister and hired a private investigator to follow him.”
Ah, Sylvie thought. That would do it.
“This arrangement is a bit different, though,” Joe said, interrupting his partner.
“Since it depends on Miss Sweet completing specific tasks, we need to verify that each one has been fulfilled. The late Mrs. Sweet was very clear that all tasks must be completed. However, given that this list was started when Miss Sweet was a teenager, we propose an audit to officially confirm its contents.”
“You’d decide what is and isn’t included?” Sylvie asked, suddenly feeling oddly protective of her mother’s wishes, despite the spiraling implications.
Both lawyers smiled, and William addressed her, casting Fiona a look that made Sylvie narrow her eyes suspiciously.
“Well, despite what horror films might lead you to believe, a last will and testament cannot force someone to break the law to get their inheritance. For example, if Miss Sweet, at sixteen, had written in a moment of teenage angst that she wanted to steal the Mona Lisa and toss it in the sea, that would not be enforceable—nor would not doing it count against her.”
Fiona smiled shyly at William and nodded, glancing down at her notes.
Joe cleared his throat. “Similarly, if the list includes items that are not physically or reasonably possible, such as finding the cure for cancer, inventing a working time machine, or achieving X before turning twenty, then those would be excluded as well.”
Sylvie wanted to laugh. They were saying all this as though it mattered—as though there was a chance she could complete the list. Even with leniencies, it felt impossible.
“Lilly turns eighteen in January next year,” Sylvie said. “But my mom said something about Fiona’s caretaking in the meantime?”
The lawyers exchanged a glance before Joe replied. “It’s agreed that until either the tasks are finished or Lilly turns eighteen, you and your sister-in-law will be co-caretakers. Any decision about the inn must be approved by both of you.”
She thought that was better than Fiona having full control, but still—did they hear how ridiculous this all sounded?
“So, if I want to change the wall color in the hallway?” Sylvie asked.
“Fifty-fifty voting power,” William confirmed.
“Does Lilly get a say in this?” Fiona asked.
“The late Mrs. Sweet felt that, as she is your child, giving her voting power would only lead to disagreement,” Joe explained slowly.
“No, I mean any of it. What if she doesn’t want it? What if I refuse to play along?”
Joe nodded in understanding. “If she declines the inheritance, Mrs. Sweet instructed that the inn be sold and the proceeds donated to a range of causes. If you decline to serve as caretaker, the same outcome applies.”
“Okay, so what if she doesn’t want to live in this horrible place, that’s hotter than the devil’s sauna and filled with memories of her dead father, for a whole year?” Fiona’s voice rose sharply, louder than it had been all meeting.
For the first time, William looked less smug. Sylvie turned her eyes away, inhaling deeply. She had no idea how to calm Fiona, but she was certain staring wouldn’t help.
“Well, uh—”
“I do.” Lilly stepped into the room, causing all the adults to turn and look at her.
Fiona’s eyes widened in surprise, then quickly narrowed, matching the obvious disapproval lining her furrowed brow. “Lilly! What’s gotten into you? Eavesdropping? How much did you hear?”
Lilly, looking undeterred, crossed her arms over her chest and eyed her mother. “Everything. Aunt Sylvie has to do a bunch of life stuff, or I get her inheritance. Anyway, is it still considered eavesdropping when it’s about me?”
Sylvie didn’t care to get involved, but she figured she already was, so she took the opportunity to speak up. “Well, yes, I think by definition, it is. But I see your point. How did you even know this meeting concerned you?”
Lilly laughed sardonically. “Oh, please! You two have been at each other’s throats like boxers in a ring since we arrived.
But today? You’ve barely even looked at each other.
And you were all so secretive about this meeting that I thought it was the will reading.
Then I remembered you said everyone concerned had to be present for that, and—”
“And you thought your grandmother would leave you something?” Fiona finished for her. “Well, she hasn’t. Not really.”
“She has,” Lilly said simply. “I get that you’re worried about it, but I do want this.”
A strange mix of emotions surged through Sylvie. Part of her was thrilled that her niece was interested in the inn, but another part sank, as if Lilly’s interest might only make Fiona worse.
“Are you sure, honey?” Fiona asked, stepping toward her. “You’d have to change schools mid-way through junior year. Leave all your friends…”
Lilly shrugged. “I know. But half my friends left this year anyway. And the ones who are still there are kind of…you know.”
Apparently, Fiona did know. She gave her daughter a sad smile, which only deepened Sylvie’s concern. She had no idea what was going on at Lilly’s school or why half her friends had left.
“Maybe it would be good for you,” Fiona said cryptically. “What about your grades, though? The curriculum can’t possibly be the same.”
“I’m already way ahead on my credits, and my GPA is fine,” Lilly replied quickly. “In fact, I’d be able to graduate early if—”
“No! We’ve talked about this.” Fiona shook her head vehemently. “You’ll regret missing out on the full high school experience. Before we agree to anything, we need to make sure it won’t cause problems for you at school. Okay?” She lowered her head slightly to make eye contact more intense.
Whether on purpose or not, it made Lilly laugh. “All right, Mom.”
Fiona’s eyes widened slightly. “Go on, then,” she said, shooing her daughter out of the room. “We’ll finish up in here and talk to you about it all later.”
Before Lilly even had a chance to try, her mom had turned her around by the shoulders and pointed her toward the door.
“Right,” Fiona started, “I suppose we should look at what’s next, then.”
Sylvie pressed the tip of her tongue to her front teeth. Fiona was right, but she didn’t have to be so smug about it.