Inheritance

“Emil was a wonderful husband and father,” Fiona says between sobs. She gazes out into the audience of seven mourners, one of them her son, Ryan.

And Rachel.

She opens the tissue in her hands, remembering she’d scribbled her eulogy notes on it in pencil, having waited to the last minute to think of something to say about her dearly departed, cheating, soon-to-be ex-husband.

Maybe it was good the divorce wasn’t finalized before he croaked.

After the funeral, she feels a cold hand on her shoulder.

“We both loved him,” Rachel says.

“Nice try. But you’re not getting a dime.”

© Nortina Simmons