SHE CHANGED HER WILL ON A TUESDAY. BY SATURDAY, THEY WERE FIGHTING IN THE HOSPITAL ROOM
When Florence told her daughter she was changing her will, it was meant to be a formality.
Just something responsible people do before surgery.
Maeve nodded, smiled, even brought her favorite soup to the pre-op appointment. What Florence didn’t know: Maeve had already told her cousins she’d be getting the house. The big one near the lake. The one everyone wanted.
But Florence had changed her mind. Quietly, weeks earlier.
She left the house to her youngest granddaughter instead. The one who always called. The one who once flew home just to help her clean out the garage.
The paperwork was signed on a Tuesday.
By Thursday, someone had gotten into her file drawer.
By Friday, Maeve was “clarifying” things with the nurses. Trying to get access.
And by Saturday—just after Florence woke up from surgery—Maeve was in the hospital room, arguing with her brother. Loud enough that Florence didn’t need to open her eyes to know exactly who was there.
What Maeve hadn’t realized was that Florence had added one more clause to the will. Something even the lawyer didn’t expect.
And that clause?
It went into effect the moment someone contested it.
Florence reached for her water, cleared her throat, and said, “So… who wants to go first?”
Leave a Reply