Page 4 of Head Over Heels

"Where's Mom?" I demand.

"In the living room." His brow furrows. "What's wrong? You usually call before you come by."

I storm past him into the other room.Mom.I glare at her. "He's lived here for thirty years and you never let me see him," I say, my voice tight.

Mom looks up from her book. "Josie." She stands up to hug me. "What are you talking about? Who?"

"Opa." I shake the registered letter at her. "He lived here in town. Only a few miles away. And you never told me."

Her brows furrow deeper. "Hedid. I assumed he left after all the legal trouble." She nods at the envelope. "What is that?"

"A copy of his will." I pass it to her and sink into the couch.

Mom pulls the papers out of the official envelope and gives them a quick once-over, then hands them to Dad. Her mouth tightens. "So the world is finally free of him."

Dad glances at the will and back at me, whistling under his breath. "Do you have any idea how much that place is worth?"

I stare at them both in surprise. They don't even care that Grandpa's dead.

I sigh. "I looked it up," I mutter. "It's worth millions. Twenty-eight, to be exact. How the hell did he even have that kind of money?"

This doesn't make any sense. We've always had enough money—Dad works in finance, and mom was the Director of HR for the university until she retired a few years ago. But a penthouse suite in the middle of the city worth millions?

Dad puts a hand on mom's arm to settle her before turning back to me. "He was a real estate developer. One of the men who built Delmont up from a nothing town after the war."

Mom frowns at me. "I think you should sell it. Use the money to pay off your school loans. Put the rest away."

"It'll be worth a lot more by the time I retire if I hold on to it." I glance at my dad, and he nods reluctantly.

Mom's jaw tightens. "It shouldn't be in the family." She turns heel and disappears into her room. I move to follow her, but my dad catches my arm.

I turn to him. "What the hell was that about?"

"Don't swear,mieloji."His tone softens as he slips into his Lithuanian endearments for me. "You know they never got along. Let it be. No good comes of bringing up the past."

I groan in frustration. "I'm an adult. You don't need to protect me."

He squeezes my shoulder. "It's not about protecting you, Josephine. It's about protecting yourMutti."

I shake his hand off me. It's always about protecting Mom.

I leave them to their silence. I'll find my answers somewhere else.

"Ms. Murphy." I shake the lawyer's hand, trying to smile. My mom's harsh words about the penthouse still echo in my head.

She gestures to the chair. "Please sit, Dr. Mueller. We have a lot to discuss." She pauses. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

She pulls out a stack of papers and lays them on the desk in front of me. "Did you have a chance to review the will?

I purse my lips. "It seems fairly straightforward."

Her nose twitches. "Yes, it is. But it's not as simple as it looks."

"Okay." I sit back, waiting.

"Your grandfather stipulated that all the assets are tied to each other. In order to claim the financial assets—the stocks and bonds, what's left of his retirement funds—you also have to accept the penthouse."

---