“Yes,” the attorney said, “and through marriage, you would know him that way. But by blood, he was connected to Ms. Hayes’s maternal family. The inheritance was left to her directly.”
The room went completely still.
Kevin’s expression shifted—confusion, irritation, then something close to panic.
“That doesn’t make sense,” he said. “He told me I was the only one who understood him.”
“Personal feelings do not determine legal decisions,” Mr. Collins replied.
I leaned against the table, suddenly lightheaded. “I haven’t seen him in years,” I said.
“You wrote to him once,” the lawyer said. “After your wedding. He kept your letter.”
A memory surfaced—an older man by a pond, feeding fish while I sat nearby as a child.
Kevin’s voice cut in, tense now. “So how much is the estate?”
“We will not discuss Ms. Hayes’s financial matters with you,” Mr. Collins said firmly.
“I’m her husband,” Kevin snapped.
I looked at the signed separation papers between us.
“No,” I said, my voice steady now. “You’re not.”
Kevin turned toward me so fast it startled me.