And now we can’t have it.

The deed to the house burned quickly in the lawyer’s hand, the orange flames flickering in his glasses. He had a sick smirk on his face. Clearly, he was enjoying this. As the paper burned closer to his fingers, he giggled, throwing what was left of the document to the ground and stomping on the ashes.

We looked on in shock. I think it was my sister who spoke first.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You didn’t read your father’s will, did you?” He smiled. “He specifically requested I clearly illustrate that you all get nothing.”

***
Title by: Doraquel
Story by: Quintin

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