That afternoon, I called the attorney who had handled our estate planning two years before Rourke became sick. By noon the next day, I was sitting across from her with the folder Coralie had left behind. Their lawyer was relying on an old copy of Rourke’s will, which divided part of his remaining estate among his sisters. But the house was different. Years earlier, Rourke and I had signed and recorded a deed structured so his interest passed to me when he died.
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