Bellagio Blues
There it was, in obscenely banal black and white: her grandfather’s will. He’d been dead for years, and she’d heard rumors about the disposition of his estate, but she’d certainly never expected to see the actual document, much less have it casually handed to her as if it were a grocery receipt and not a real person’s final words to his loved ones. Her mother handed the red folder to her. ‘Will you look this over, honey? My mind’s just not what it used to be.’ She smiled in self-mockery when...