The old house greets Evelyn with a stale smell and a heavy quiet. She throws the windows wide, letting the May sunshine and the scent of lilacs pour in. It has been a month since her grandfather passed, and only now does she find the strength to travel and sort through his belongings.
Michael Stevens was more than a grandfather to her. After her parents died early, he became her family, raised her and set her on her feet. In recent years they have met only rarelyhis work in London, the rush of everyday life, never enough time. Now, standing in the sitting room where every object whispers his name, Evelyn scolds herself for every day they never spent together.
The phone rings, breaking the silence.
Eve, have you started yet? Aunt Margarets voice sounds unusually caring. Victor and I will be there tomorrow to help with the furniture. Dont touch anything valuable for now, okay?
Of course, Aunt Maggie, Evelyn replies, eyes on her grandfathers sideboard lined with seashells. Im only sorting through things and papers.
Good. After the will was read theres a bit of awkwardness dont be upset that Granddad left you only his books and piano. He just wanted to be fair.
Evelyn bites her lip. At the funeral the solicitor read a will that splits the house and most of the estate between his childrenAunt Margaret and Uncle Victor. Evelyn receives only the books, an old piano and a personalized clocktreasured to her, but not of great monetary worth.
Everythings fine, Aunt Maggie. I dont need anything, she says.
Thats right! You have your own flat, your own life. Victor and I will need the country house for the summer holidays. All right, see you tomorrow!
She hangs up and sighs heavily. Granddad always said the house would be hers. Who else would I leave it to if not you, dear? Youre the only one who truly understands these walls, he had told her. It seems he changed his mind at the last minute. He has the right to do so.
All day Evelyn spends sifting through the books. Each volume holds a memorya wellworn fairytale collection he read to her at bedtime, school textbooks where he, a former teacher, helped her with maths. Some books hide dried flowers, old photographs, marginal notes in his neat handwriting.
By evening she reaches his study. The small room with a massive desk and floortoceiling shelves has always felt special to her. As a child he forbade her from entering without knockingcalling it his creative laboratory. Here Michael Stevens wrote his memoirs, kept diaries, and sorted archives.
Evelyn gently flips through folders of manuscripts, old notebooks, yellowed envelopes. In the lower drawer she finds a stack of letters tied with twineletters from her grandmother, a woman Evelyn never met. Beside them lies a worn leather diary.
Opening it, she reads an entry dated last year: Call S.P. about the new will. Destroy the old one.
Her heart skips. A new will? The solicitor, Sergei Pavlovich, had presented only one document at the hearing.
She continues searching, methodically checking every drawer and folder. Behind a pile of old newspapers in the side cabinet she discovers an envelope labelled Will. Copy. Original with solicitor S.P. The date on the envelope is a month before her grandfathers death.
With trembling hands she pulls out the paper and begins to read. In this will Michael Stevens bequeaths the entire house, the land and all valuable items to her, Evelyn. Margaret and Victor receive monetary compensation instead.
This decision isnt about preferring one heir over another, the note reads, but about keeping the family nest intact. Evelyn is the only one who sees this house as more than material wealth, but as the heart of our history. I trust she will preserve it for future generations.
Evelyn collapses into her grandfathers armchair, unable to believe what she reads. Why wasnt the second will presented? Did the solicitor know about it? What should she do now?
She spends a sleepless night tossing on the old bed in her former room, weighing options. Presenting the will would spark a huge scandal. Margaret and Victor have already begun planning what to do with the property; they never were close to their father and, as Evelyn knows, visited him only occasionally. Does that give them fewer rights?
In the morning, just as she sips her coffee, the sound of a car pulls up. Aunt Margaret bursts into the house first, filling the space with her loud voice and brisk movements.
Eve, Victor and I are here, she says, nodding toward her daughter, who mutters in the hallway. Lets see what we can take right now. Victor will bring the movers later.
Hello, Evelyn forces a smile. I havent finished sorting
No worries, well help! Margaret darts from room to room, eyeing the furniture. Ill take this sideboard and the bedroom chest. You okay with that, dear?
Her daughter, Lily, shrugs. Whatever, Mum. I only came for Granddads coin collection, remember?
Of course, of course! Evelyn, wheres the coin collection? He collected those all his life, you know. Lily, its for you as a keepsake.
Evelyn feels anger rise. The numismatic collection was Granddads pride. He showed her each new coin, told the story behind it. And now Lily, who arrived at the funeral looking disgruntled, will walk away with it?
Aunt Maggie, Evelyn begins cautiously, did you speak with the solicitor after the will was read?
Margaret freezes, turning sharply. Sergei Pavlovich? No, why?
I just feel somethings off about the will, Evelyn says.
What do you mean? Margaret asks, narrowing her eyes.
I found a mention of another, later will in Granddads papers, Evelyn replies.
A heavy silence falls. Lily stops examining the sideboard and turns toward them.
What nonsense is that? Margaret finally says, her voice trembling. There was only one will, and thats what was read.
I think we should call Sergei Pavlovich, Evelyn states firmly. I have a copy of another document.
Margarets face turns pale. Evelyn, listen why stir this up? Father made his choice, he divided everything fairly. You got the things he loved mostbooks, piano. He knew how you love music.
Its not about the objects, Aunt Maggie. Its about Granddads final wish. If he changed his mind, we should respect that.
Changed his mind? Margaret sneers. He spent his whole life thinking of you! Your parents diedtragic, of course. But why did he always put you above his own children? Were we strangers to him?
Evelyn is startled by her aunts sudden bitterness. I never asked for special treatment
Exactly! You were always there, always. We have our own lives, our own concerns. We cant sit with him all the time.
Mom, calm down, Lily interjects. Whats all this fuss? If theres another will, let the lawyers sort it out.
The front door opens and Uncle Victor steps ina broadshouldered man with a face uncannily like Granddads.
Whats the argument about? he asks, scanning the tense faces.
Evelyn found another will, Margaret blurts out. She says Granddad left everything to her.
Victor walks slowly to the sofa and sits down. Is that true?
His voice carries no surprise, only fatigue. Evelyn looks at him. Did you know about it?
Victor sighs. Granddad mentioned wanting to change his will. He said the house should stay whole, not be split. He thought only you truly loved it.
And you kept quiet?! Margaret shouts. Traitor!
Dont shout, Maggie, Victor replies wearily. I didnt know whether hed actually draw up a new will or just thought about it. Either way, the house is old, needs constant upkeep. Margaret and I see it as an asset we could sell, not a memory for Evelyn.
So youre on her side? Margaret flares her hands. Wonderful! Well just give it all to the girl and be left with nothing!
Enough, Mom, Lily rolls her eyes. Uncles right. We dont need the house. Youve said youd sell it and buy a flat in the city anyway.
Evelyn watches the exchange, feeling oddly detached. To them the house is just property, a piece of real estate. To her it is a whole worldsmells, sounds, memories.
I propose this, Evelyn says finally. We call Sergei Pavlovich and sort out the wills. If Granddads last wish really was to leave the house to me, Ill pay you both a fair compensation for your shares, over time.
What compensation? Margaret scoffs. From a librarians salary?
I can get a loan. Or sell my flat.
Mom, stop, Lily says. Lets just call the solicitor.
Sergei Pavlovich agrees to come immediately. An hour later the elderly solicitor sits at the kitchen table, portfolio in hand, eyes flicking anxiously among them.
So youve found a second will, he says after hearing Evelyns explanation. May I see the copy?
Evelyn hands it over. He studies it, checks dates and signatures.
Yes, this is a genuine copy, he concludes. Michael Stevens did indeed draw up a new will shortly before he died.
Why didnt you present it? Margaret demands.
Sergei removes his glasses, rubs his nose wearily. A week before his death he called me and said he wanted to cancel the earlier will. He scheduled a meeting, but he passed before it could happen.
So his final wish reverted to the first version? Victor asks.
I cant say for certain, the solicitor replies cautiously. He didnt explain why over the phone, only that he didnt want family strife.
Tears prick Evelyns eyes. Granddad thought of them until the end, even at the cost of his own desires.
Legally, Sergei continues, the most recent will that hasnt been officially revoked is the one that standsso the one leaving the house to you. But if you contest it, citing his phone call, the case could drag on for years. No one wins except the lawyers.
A heavy silence settles. Evelyn looks out at the old apple tree Granddad planted before she was born. Every spring it bursts into white blossoms, filling the garden with a faint perfume. Granddad used to say, As long as the apple tree blossoms, the house lives.
I wont push the second will, Evelyn says suddenly, turning to her relatives. Let things stay as they are.
What? Youre giving up the house? Lily asks, surprised.
No, Evelyn shakes her head. I suggest another solution. The house remains jointly owned. No one sells it. Ill stay here to keep it in good order, and youre all welcome any timesummer, weekends, holidaysjust like a true family home.
But why would you do that? Margaret asks, baffled. You could have it all to yourself.
Because Granddad wanted us to be a family, Evelyn answers simply. He feared inheritance would split us, and he was ready to change his final wish for that reason. I want to honour his intention.
Victor watches his niece for a long moment, then nods slowly. I agree. That feels right.
Margaret hesitates, her face showing the clash between greed and a vague sense that Evelyns offer holds something more valuable than money.
But who will pay for the upkeep? Repairs? she finally asks.
Ill cover the main costs, Evelyn replies. Youll have a ready, wellkept house to visit. The only condition is that no one demands a saleever.
And if I need cash urgently? Margaret presses.
In that case Ill buy out your share, gradually if needed. The house stays the house.
Lily laughs lightly. Granddad wouldve liked that. He always said Evelyn was the wisest of us.
Sergei Pavlovich watches the scene with interest. I can draft an agreement that reflects this arrangement. It will be legally clean and in line with Michael Stevens wishes.
By evening all the paperwork is signed, the initial tension eased. They sit on the veranda with tea, unexpectedly sharing stories from the past. Victor recounts how he and his father built the very veranda theyre on, Margaret reminisces about her mothers pies, Lily giggles over Granddads childhood anecdotes.
Evelyn watches them and feels she has found far more than she lost. Not just a house or possessions, but a reunited family. If compromise was required, so be it.
When the relatives leave, she steps into the garden. The apple tree is in full bloom, petals drifting to the ground. Birds chirp overhead. The house breathes.
Thank you, Granddad, she whispers, looking to the sky. I understand now. True inheritance isnt in walls or things. It lives in the people who remember and love each other.
She pulls a folded sheet from her pocketthe copy of the second will. Perhaps one day shell show it to her own children and tell them this story. Not now. Right now, the priority is to preserve what truly matters: the family home, the shared memories, and the peace among those she loves.
