Melanie: We’re downstairs.
I glanced toward Simon’s desk.
Then at Dorothy.
Then at the temporary urn sitting near the entrance.
“You never knew who Simon really was,” I said quietly. “And you certainly have no idea what he signed six days before he d/ie/d.”
A knock sounded at the door moments later.
When I opened it, Melanie Lee stood there holding a black folder. Beside her were a deputy sheriff and the building manager. Dorothy’s name was printed across the first tab inside the folder.
For the first time that day, my mother-in-law’s smile vanished completely…
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The room temperature seemed to drop instantly as the deputy sheriff stepped across the threshold, his posture rigid and formal. Beside him, Melanie—wearing a tailored suit and carrying an immaculate aura of quiet authority—didn’t even acknowledge the chaos. She simply placed her briefcase on the dining room table, pushing aside Dorothy’s handwritten inventory like it was trash.
“What is the meaning of this?” Dorothy demanded, though her voice lacked its earlier sharpness. “This is a family matter. Vera is hysterical, and we are simply securing my late son’s estate.”
“Actually, Mrs. Vance, it isn’t a family matter,” Melanie replied smoothly, unzipping her portfolio. “My name is Melanie Lee, senior estate partner at Lee & Vance Legal. And as of 2:00 PM today, you are all officially trespassing on private property.”
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Knox scoffed, trying to maintain his arrogant smirk. “Trespassing? This apartment was Simon’s. Under South Carolina intestate laws, as his blood family—”
“Under South Carolina law, Knox, you should have checked county land records before breaking into a home,” Melanie interrupted, drawing a thick staple-bound document from her folder. “This apartment was never in Simon’s personal name. It was purchased through an irrevocable land trust three years ago. The sole beneficiary of that trust is Vera Vance. Simon had no personal ownership stake in this real estate, meaning it never formed part of his probate estate.”
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the room. Aunt Kaylin slowly dropped the stack of documents she had been holding back into Simon’s desk drawer.
“Furthermore,” Melanie continued, turning her cold gaze toward Dorothy, “the key you used was issued strictly for emergency maintenance access while Simon was alive. Using it to gain entry today constitutes unauthorized entry and residential burglary.”
