Chapter 6 - The Gathering of Vultures
Three days later, the memorial service took place at the local chapel. The atmosphere was thick with superficial grief. My brothers-in-law, dressed in sharp rented suits, stood near the entrance accepting condolences from neighbors, acting as though they had been devoted, grieving pillars of strength throughout their mother’s final years.
As soon as the casket was lowered into the damp earth, the facade crumbled. Before we had even left the cemetery gates, my eldest brother-in-law pulled my husband and me aside by the stone fountain. With crossed arms and a stern expression, he demanded an immediate family meeting back at the farmhouse to search through Fiona’s files, assuming there had to be some forgotten property deed or farm equipment to liquidate.
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“Look, Mabel,” my sister-in-law chimed in aggressively, “you’ve lived in Mom’s house rent-free for a decade. We’re putting the 80 acres on the market next week to split the proceeds equally among the four biological siblings. You and Greg need to pack your things by the end of the month.” My husband opened his mouth to defend us, but I gently placed a hand on his arm, remaining quiet.
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