Administrative leave became termination.
Over the next month I applied to three other landscape architecture firms. All three rejected me. Through a former colleague, I learned why. Someone had been calling ahead and poisoning the well.
“She said you had a history of manipulating elderly clients,” my colleague whispered. “She sounded so concerned. So sincere.”
Karen was not just trying to win the lawsuit. She was trying to erase me.
That night, I sat alone in the mansion’s kitchen eating cereal for dinner because I had forgotten to buy groceries. The silence pressed down like a physical weight.
My grandmother’s voice echoed in my memory. I’ve recorded everything, Mila.
What did she record? What had she been trying to tell me?
I looked toward the library. The third bookshelf. A book called First Principles.
Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow I would find out.
But tomorrow came, and then another tomorrow, and another. I told myself I was too exhausted, too busy dealing with lawyers, depositions, and Karen’s latest lies. The truth was simpler. I was afraid.
At month six, Karen requested a meeting to discuss a settlement, her lawyer said.
We met at a neutral cafe in downtown Hartford.
Karen arrived in designer mourning: black Chanel, pearl earrings, the grieving-daughter aesthetic perfected. Richard sat beside her like a well-trained lap dog. I sat across from them alone.
Karen folded her hands on the table. “Sweetheart, I don’t want this ugliness any more than you do.”
“Then drop the lawsuit.”
“I can’t do that.” Her smile was sympathetic and rehearsed. “But I can offer you a deal. Fifty-fifty split. You get half the mansion’s value. I get the other half. Everyone walks away happy.”
“The will was clear.”
“The will was written by a confused old woman.”
“Grandma wasn’t confused.”
Karen’s mask slipped for just a second. Something ugly flickered behind her eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know she was tested regularly. Her mind was sharp until the end.”
“Tests can be faked. Doctors can be paid.”
Karen leaned forward. “Do you really want to drag this through court? Do you know what I’ll do to your reputation?”
“You’ve already tried.”
“Tried?” She laughed softly. “Honey, I haven’t even started.”
Richard cleared his throat. “Listen, this doesn’t have to get worse. Just take the deal. Save yourself the trouble.”
I looked at him, at his sweaty forehead and darting eyes. He was scared, but of what?
I stood up. “I’ll see you in court.”
Karen’s voice followed me as I walked away, sharp and cold. “You don’t know what I’m capable of, Mila.”
I paused at the door and turned back. “Neither do you.”
