Chapter 4: The Deal

After hearing Natalie’s story, I was silent for a long time.

“So you think the person who swapped your olanzapine for phenytoin sodium was your cousin?”

She nodded.

“I can’t think of anyone else. Only the doctor and my cousin have access to my medicine.”

I said, “I don’t understand why he’d do that... Even if his love turned to hate, this seems extreme.”

Natalie thought for a moment. “Maybe it’s about money.”

“If he wants money, wouldn’t you give it to him? After all, he’s the only relative who’s good to you.”

“Maybe he wants all of it.”

I understood what she meant.

“But if you die, your cousin isn’t in the legal order of inheritance.”

In American law, the first in line to inherit are spouse, children, and parents. No spouse, no kids, no parents—next up are siblings, then grandparents, then it gets messy. Cousins? They’re way down the line.

“You’re right. Normally, my cousin has no inheritance rights. But in my case, if the three years he lived with me are considered actual guardianship and care, he could contest for inheritance. There have been similar court cases.”

Natalie looked pained and sighed.

“So he has a motive.”

I stared at her for a while. This girl wasn’t as naïve as she appeared.

Suddenly, I realized: “You want to marry me to cut off your cousin’s hope of inheriting?”

If Natalie married, her spouse would be her first legal heir. Maybe then her cousin would give up, and they could go back to being just relatives.

I couldn’t help but joke, “So this is like naming your successor in advance?”

She didn’t deny it. “Of course, it would just be a fake marriage. We’d stay married for five years, and I’d pay you $150,000 a year.”

It sounded just like a plot from a Netflix drama.

I forced a laugh, feeling like I’d stumbled onto the set of a streaming miniseries: true crime meets rom-com, with me as the hapless straight man.

“Actually, there’s a simpler way. Just make a will and tell your cousin that even if you die, he won’t get a cent. Then I think he’ll give up.”

She was stunned. “I told you, I don’t want to lose him. So I can’t make things too absolute.”

I picked up my untouched coffee and took a sip.

“Then why me?”

“I said, I want a stranger. Anyone will do. I don’t even care if you’re a bad person—we’ll sign a contract, and just in case, I’ll make a will too. But I think, since you’re a volunteer on the Blind Assistance App, even if you’re a bad person, you can’t be too bad.”

“You don’t even know my age or what I look like.”

“It’s fake anyway. Besides, does it matter what you look like?”

Looking at her sightless eyes, I smiled bitterly. It really didn’t matter.

What a shame, I actually look pretty good.

“I’m thirty-four.”

Natalie replied calmly, “I know.”

“There’s another issue. Three years ago you were sixteen, so you’re only nineteen now. The legal marriage age is twenty-one. What do we do?”

She paused. “Then just be my fiancé for now. Payment as agreed.”

Natalie’s screen reader chirped like a digital bird as she pulled up the contract—she was all business now, nerves masked by determination.