“This is Stephanie Herrera,” I said. “I need an appointment. It’s urgent. It involves my estate planning and my will.”
There was a pause, then a softer tone. “Of course, Mrs. Herrera. Let me see when Mr. Miller is available.”
When I hung up, I stood in my quiet apartment and looked at Ethan’s childhood photos on the wall. Birthday cakes. School plays. Holiday mornings. Me smiling behind him like I was proud to be invisible as long as he was happy.
I wasn’t proud anymore.
I was awake.
Walking into the Office Like a Different Woman
Three days later, I stepped into Mr. Miller’s office wearing a navy coat and my most sensible shoes. Not because I was trying to impress him, but because I wanted to remind myself that I still had dignity.
Mr. Miller came out to greet me, elegant and professional, the kind of man who looked like he belonged in any room.
“Mrs. Herrera,” he said warmly, shaking my hand. “It’s been a long time.”
“It has,” I replied. “And I need you to help me make some changes.”
He gestured toward a chair across from his desk. The surface was polished, uncluttered, and expensive, like the kind of desk that belongs to someone who has never had to choose between rent and groceries.
I sat down anyway, steady as I could manage.
“I want you to review all my assets,” I said. “Everything. Properties, investment accounts, insurance policies, and any updated paperwork from my father’s estate.”
