The lawyer’s office was as I remembered it—cool and impersonal, with its leather chairs and the soft hum of the air conditioning. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the flutter of nerves in my stomach. “Just a routine check-up,” I reminded myself as I waited for Mr. Grayson, the lawyer handling my late aunt’s estate. He finally emerged from his office, a man in his late forties with a practiced smile that seemed to barely touch his eyes.
“Good to see you again,” he said with a nod, extending a hand for a brief shake before gesturing me into his office. I followed, heart pounding just a bit faster than before. The folder with my name was already waiting on his desk, a silent witness to whatever was about to unfold.
“We’ve made good progress,” Mr. Grayson began, flipping open the folder. “Just a few things we need your signature on.” He slid a document across the desk to me. I glanced at it, expecting the usual formalities. Instead, my eyes snagged on a figure that seemed out of place—$12,500 in legal fees.
“Wait,” I said, my voice cracking slightly, “This can’t be right. That’s… that’s a lot more than we discussed.” I pointed at the line item, hoping he would see the error.
Mr. Grayson peered over his glasses, his expression unchanging. “It’s all there,” he replied smoothly. “You agreed to the terms when we started.” His words were like a cold breeze, chilling the room despite the air conditioning.
My heart sank. Had I really missed this? I thought back to our initial meeting, the paperwork, the rushed explanations. The details had seemed straightforward, but now, they felt like a trap. I picked up the pen, my hand trembling. Signing it meant accepting the charges, but refusing might mean further delays—or worse.
“Can we discuss this?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Mr. Grayson leaned back, folding his hands in his lap. “Of course,” he said, but his tone suggested otherwise. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in. I glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing time was slipping away, and with it, my options. I wished I had been more cautious, more prepared. But now, I was at the mercy of the man across the desk, his calm demeanor only amplifying my growing anxiety.
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