A short story by Marisa Coltabaugh“I’m sorry for your loss.”The man in front of me was lanky, wearing half-moon spectacles in front of his brown eyes, and his hair was thinning at the top.  He did not seem all that sorry, the words more perfunctory than true.  “Thank you.” What else was there to say? “Regarding the last will of Mr. Paul Brooks, he has left you, one Ms. Joanna Brooks, $20,000 ca...