My Estranged Aunt Died, And Her Lawyer Just Told Me I Inherited What?

I was down to twenty bucks and three packets of ramen when an unknown number lit up my phone. I almost let it die in voicemail, but something in me—hope, stupidity, fate—made me answer.

“Ms. Miller? This is Adrian Whitcomb, attorney,” said a crisp voice that sounded like it wore cufflinks. “I’m calling about the estate of Diane Miller.”

My aunt. The family ghost. My mother’s estranged sister who’d lived alone in the sticks and died quietly a month ago. We hadn’t seen her in twenty years. I braced for forms to sign, fees to pay, anything that would cost money I didn’t have.

Instead: “Your aunt left you a substantial sum.”

I sat on the edge of my mattress, heart in my throat. Substantial, as in debt-gone, car-fixed, life-changed—then he cleared his throat.

“There is a condition. Unusual. In a sealed