Chapter 4 - THE OLD TRUST
Dad’s older trust was dated eleven years before his death.
The structure was ordinary enough.
During his life:
Everything remained his.
After death:
Specific personal gifts.
Taxes and debts.
Then residue divided equally between me and Sophronia.
Fifty-fifty.
Each share could remain in a continuing trust for asset protection, but we were both the primary beneficiaries of our own shares.
Sophronia was named successor trustee.
That was the part she loved.
Dad had chosen her because she was organized.
At the time it made sense.
She handled details.
I forgot passwords.
Then grandchildren.
The old plan did not give Aurelia or Clara direct major inheritances while their parents were alive.
Grandchildren inherited only if their parent died before Dad or through later generation-skipping provisions.
Normal.
Then a clause allowed Dad to treat documented lifetime advances as offsets.
That meant if he gave one child a substantial advance and explicitly documented it as chargeable against inheritance, it could reduce that child’s later share.
I looked at Naomi.
“Did he document my house loan?”
“Not as an inheritance advancement.”
“Then what was it?”
“A promissory note.”
“Paid.”
“Yes.”
“Then Sophronia was wrong.”
“About that transaction, yes.”
Then:
“Did Dad make advancements to her?”
Naomi looked at me.
“That is exactly the kind of question we need accounting records to answer.”
Again.
No shortcut.
Then executor versus trustee.
Sophronia had been nominated personal representative under the pour-over will.
But the court had not issued unrestricted authority because probate counsel flagged the missing potential amendment.
Miles had been appointed special administrator for preservation tasks temporarily.
That explained why Sophronia was furious about not controlling the cabinet herself.
She thought Dad had chosen her.
Maybe he had.
Once.
Could the later amendment change that?
Yes.
If valid.
Could a hidden signed amendment be ignored because no one liked it?
No.
Could a copy be challenged?
Yes.
Could an original matter?
Very much.
Then Naomi said:
“The key may open nothing useful.”
“You think Dad put a signed amendment in there.”
“I know he said he signed an amendment. I know he said the signed original would be stored in the blue cabinet. I do not know whether he followed through.”
“Why didn’t you insist on a copy?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“He said he’d scan it.”
Of course.
Dad once took eight months to email me a photo.
Then:
“Who witnessed it?”
“Two bank employees, according to him.”
“Can we ask?”
“Already doing that.”
Good.
Then one more issue.
Dad’s workshop had been sealed after inventory because of expensive antique hand tools.
Estimated value:
Around $42,000 total.
Not treasure.
Still significant.
Sophronia had wanted to sell quickly.
I wanted to keep several sentimental pieces.
Miles stopped both of us until full estate authority was clear.
That was good.
No one had yet looted the workshop.
Then the blue cabinet.
Steel.
Bolted to concrete.
Combination dial disabled years ago.
Keyed mechanical lock remained.
Locksmith said it could be drilled.
May you like
Sophronia had insisted Dad would have hated damage.
Now I wondered if preserving the cabinet had also preserved whatever frightened her.
