Page 10 of No Turning Back
Then comes the part that makes me sit up straight.
“I bequeath fifty percent of all my assets, liquid and fixed to my life partner, Eloise Claire Barnes. You may not be my wife at this moment, but you are the only one I want to spend my life with.”
Luis pauses to lift a small, sealed envelope from the folder and hands it to my mother.
“…along with this letter.”
Her fingers close around it, trembling slightly.
Luis continues.
“The remaining fifty percent of my estate is to be distributed to my beloved daughter, Quinn Reed Barnes, née Ortega. I also leave her this letter…”
Another envelope. This one, he holds onto.
“…to be given to her thirty days from the date of the will reading.”
I blink. “Why thirty days?”
Luis looks at my mother first. Something unspoken passes between them.
Then he looks back at me. “You’ll understand.”
I narrow my eyes, not in anger, just confusion. But he doesn’t elaborate.
After we sign the paperwork, initials here, signature there I move to stand. Then pause.
“If it turns out… my dad had another child,” I ask, “would this will still stand? Could it be challenged?”
Luis leans back in his chair, fingers steepled. “Under Texas law, a child born outside of marriage or unknown at the time of the will, can still have a claim, if they can prove paternity.”
“So, itcouldbe changed?”
He nods slowly. “Not changed. But challenged. If that child is legally proven to be your father’s, they may be entitled to a share of the estate, even with this will in place. The court would consider it a ‘pretermitted child,’ meaning a child unintentionally left out.”
My throat tightens.
“But it won’t be automatic,” Luis adds. “They’d have to go through the courts. File a petition. Prove the connection.”
I glance at the sealed letter Luis still hasn’t let go of, then to my mother, whose expression is unreadable.
My dad always did love a mess.
I slide into the driver’s seat and shut the door with a little more force than necessary. My hands grip the wheel, but I don’t start the car right away.
What the hellwasthat?
The letter. The cryptic thirty-day delay. The look Luis gave Mom like they were sharing some loaded secret. It’s all circling in my brain like a vulture.
I finally start the car once mom gets in and begin the drive back to my parents’ house.
“Okay, seriously, what was that?”
Mom evens pretend to not understand. “What?”
“The letter. The thirty days. The look Luis gave you? What gives?”
She keeps her eyes forward. “It’s nothing.”
