The silence that followed felt brittle, sharp.
“As for Helen’s biological children — Lisa, Emily, and Jonathan — each of you will receive a bequest of four thousand dollars.”
The silence cracked apart.
“Four thousand?!” Lisa shrieked, her voice high with fury. “That’s an insult. She spent more on a handbag!”
Jonathan slammed his fist on the table, making the glasses tremble. “She lost her mind before she died. That’s the only explanation!”
Emily leaned forward, eyes blazing. “This is your fault,” she spat at me. “She despised you for years. And now suddenly you get everything? What did you do to her, Anna?”
I remained motionless, my eyes fixed on the glossy surface of the table, my heartbeat drumming in my ears. I wanted to shout that I had no explanation. That I was just as stunned as they were.
But the truth was, I didn’t understand why Helen had chosen me either.
When the meeting finally adjourned, I left without speaking. Lisa’s voice still rang through the hallway, sharp and furious. Emily wouldn’t even look my way, clutching her phone like a shield. Jonathan muttered insults as I walked past, his glare cutting into me.
Outside, the cool air struck my face, but it didn’t calm me. My chest felt constricted, my pulse uneven. Acting on impulse, I drove directly to Lakeview Drive.
I had always known Helen owned property there. Yet knowing was nothing compared to seeing it.
As I approached the wrought-iron gates, my breath stalled. The mansion rose before me, its tall windows glowing in the afternoon light. Ivy climbed the stone facade, and a broad porch extended across the front like something out of a dream I wasn’t meant to enter.
“This… this is mine?” I murmured, gripping the steering wheel as though it might disappear if I loosened my hold.
The gates swung open at the press of a remote Mr. Whitman had given me. My car moved slowly up the gravel drive, tires crunching, until I stopped before the towering front doors.
Inside, the faint scent of polished wood and lavender lingered, as if Helen herself had just tidied the place. A sweeping staircase curved upward, its railing gleaming. My footsteps echoed as I drifted from room to room. Everything was flawless, meticulously arranged, yet burdened with an unseen weight.
I had never stepped foot here before. And yet—now it belonged to me.
Without quite knowing why, I found myself drawn to her study. That room had once been off-limits, a space no one dared enter. The door creaked as I pushed it open. Sunlight streamed across the desk, illuminating something small and white.
A sealed envelope.
My name was written on it in Helen’s unmistakable, elegant handwriting.
My fingers trembled as I picked it up. My throat tightened as I broke the seal and unfolded the letter inside.
Her words met my eyes:
“Dear Anna, If you are reading this, then my time has passed…”
I read slowly, each sentence making my heart pound harder. She wrote of her children’s distance, their fixation on money over affection. She acknowledged her shortcomings, the coldness I had carried for years. She expressed regret.
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