I looked him directly in the eye.
“It is a legal decision. It must be respected.”
Dad slowly lowered the teacup.
A chilling smile spread across his face.
He leaned forward.
“We will see.”
It wasn’t an empty threat from an angry old man.
It was the official beginning of a scorched-earth campaign.
I returned to my unit and buried myself in work.
I pinned on the oak leaf of a major during a small ceremony attended by my commanding officer, two fellow prosecutors, and a row of empty folding chairs where family should have been.
Eventually, I became a senior prosecutor for the Federal Military Justice Office, specializing in complex federal fraud cases.
I believed the thousand miles between us would eventually make Dad abandon his obsession with the estate.
That was my tactical mistake.
He didn’t simply file a civil suit to void the will.
He built a legal trap designed to destroy me on two fronts at once.
