I received a call early that morning from an unknown number. I let it go to voicemail, as I always do, with numbers I don’t recognize. If they need to get ahold of me, they’ll leave a voicemail. I set my phone down on the kitchen counter and finished making the kids’ lunches. Everyone was dressed, hair was brushed, and breakfast was finished. I grabbed my phone and, slowly but surely, got all three kids into the car. As I was pulling up directions to the AirBNB, I received a voicemail notification. I put my phone up to my ear and listened. “Hello, Ms. Abrams, this is Colleen Shelte with Smith Law Practice. I am calling in regards to your late husband’s open case…”. I slowly put the phone down on the dash board and lean back in my seat. A cold sweat hits me as I process what I just heard. It’s been months since I’ve had word from the lawyers about Casey’s death; I had figured they moved on or put it aside for another day. It didn’t allow me closure, but I was able to process my husband’s death without also processing paperwork and legal fees. I didn’t miss this feeling.

We arrive at the AirBNB for a much needed getaway. It was about an hour south of Seattle, but the views are gorgeous and there’s enough to do in the area for the kids. Once everyone’s settled and my older two take the youngest outside to explore, I settle into a comfortably-worn recliner and pick up my phone. The voicemail is still pulled up, and a phone number to the law firm is highlighted in blue. I press the number.

“Hi, this is Shelby Abrams, I received a call from you this morning.” Pleasantries are exchanged (as they should be when I am paying $300 an hour for their services), and she asks if I’m able to come into the office. I tell her that we’re on a trip and that I am unable to be there in person, but I’m happy to come when I’m home. She says that’s not necessary and that she will overnight it to my current address.

“Overnight what?” I asked, obviously confused.

“Your former mother-in-law has something of your husband’s that she thinks you may need”, she says.

I dont want anything from that woman. After the way she handled Corey’s death, I was happy to be rid of her. Even prior to the accident, Corey and she had unresolved issues. She was a dark spot in an even darker situation, and I was happy to not have a connection with her any longer. But, as sure as I was in my opinion of her, I still couldn’t help but wonder what may be so important that it needs overnighted to our vacation house months after his death. I oblige and give her our information.

The next morning, I awake in bed with all three kids sleeping soundly next to me. It’s 6:45 a.m., and there’s a pounding at the door. I grab the white hotel-looking robe off of the hook and head to the front door. There’s a man in uniform holding a rather small box, and I know that it’s from the lawyers. I sign the clipboard and close the door.

I open the box and gasp.