agreement was one clause my father apparently never understood.
Now his attorney needed my signature.
I opened the document.
By page three, I was laughing so hard tears filled my eyes.
The lawyer on the video call frowned. “Ms. Mercer… are you all right?”
I wiped my face.
“Oh, I’m perfect,” I said. “Please schedule the meeting.”
The meeting took place in a glass conference room overlooking downtown, exactly the kind of room my father loved because it made him feel important.
He arrived with my mother, Claire, and two
