Kyra Pfennig

Fortune

The snap of the estate lawyers briefcase felt so final. The definitive signal to end our meeting and the brief intertwining of our fates. It echoed through the small, stuffy office decorated with outdated, elaborate furniture, deep reds and honey oaks. I held in my hand the very last ties to my mother and the last chance to answers about my past. A full lifetime was reduced to the tiny package in my hand. I twisted it in my hands with knitted brows. I searched for words, some way to seek clarification, but I could speak none without seeming callous and greedy in my current circumstance.