And she was beautiful—stunning, actually. Blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, the spitting image of my mother. Meanwhile, I was the odd one out. Dark hair, dark eyes, not really resembling either of them. But I never questioned it. I loved my mother too much to care.
So when she got sick, I was the one who put my life on hold to take care of her. I was there through the worst of it—when she gripped my arm so tightly that bruises formed, when she sobbed for hours, when frustration turned to anger and she hurled food across the room.
And Barbara?
She was too busy chasing fame.
“I can’t take care of Mom, Charlotte. I have auditions. I have producers to meet. I have to stay relevant. You understand, right? Right, Lottie?”
Of course, I understood. That’s what I always did. I understood while Barbara lived her life however she pleased.
The Will That Changed Everything
When our mother passed, Barbara didn’t grieve. She showed up hungry—not for closure, but for money.
At the reading of the will, she strutted in like she owned the place, draped in designer black, diamond earrings I’d never seen before. I should have known something was off from the smug way she sat down.
Before the lawyer could even begin, Barbara pulled out an old, yellowed document.
“Before we go any further,” she said sweetly, sliding the paper across the table, “I found something interesting while looking through Mom’s things.”
I unfolded it, and my stomach dropped.
Adoption Decree.
Barbara leaned back, her smirk widening.
“Well, well, well,” she drawled. “Looks like I finally know why you never looked like us.”
My hands shook as I read it. Once. Twice. Three times.
“You… you’re lying,” I stammered. “You faked this. You got one of your actor friends to make this!”
She let out a fake gasp, tapping her long nails against the desk.
“Oh, Charlotte, don’t be so dramatic. The proof is right there. You’re adopted. You’re not even Mom’s real daughter. And since you’re not family, you don’t deserve a cent.”
Her words hit like a slap. I felt sick. Had my mother hidden this from me all my life?
Barbara, oblivious to my turmoil, crossed her arms.
“So, despite the will saying we split everything, I’ll be making sure you get nothing. You don’t belong in this family, so why should you get a share?”
The DNA Test That Exposed the Truth
The lawyer hesitated. “Ladies, maybe we should—”
Barbara waved him off. “There’s nothing to discuss. It’s all right there.”
But as I looked at the document again, something didn’t sit right. The name on the adoption decree had been deliberately erased. Someone had tried to remove it.
And that? That made me suspicious.
I demanded a DNA test.
Barbara rolled her eyes. “What’s the point, Lottie? You know what it’ll say—that you’re not family.”
“Just do it,” I insisted. “If I’m adopted, you’ll have even more claim to everything, right?”
That did it. With a sigh, she agreed.
But the results?
Oh, they stunned everyone.
Because Barbara—the golden child, the favorite, the one who thought she was entitled to it all—was the one who wasn’t biologically related to our mother.
A Lifetime of Lies
After the results came in, I went to our Aunt Helen. She had been quiet during all of this, but now, she finally spoke the truth.
“Your mother never wanted you both to know, Lottie,” Aunt Helen said, tears in her eyes. “Because she knew how much it would hurt you.”
“Hurt us how?” I asked, my heart pounding.
She took a deep breath. “Barbara wasn’t Mom’s biological daughter.”
I froze.
“She found Barbara at a train station when she was two years old. She had been abandoned. Your mother took her in, raised her as her own. And she never wanted Barbara to feel anything less than loved.”
I swallowed hard. “But the adoption decree?”
“She made it official, darling. She legally adopted Barbara a year later. She wanted to make sure no one could ever take her away.”
Everything clicked into place. My mother had given Barbara everything. And yet, Barbara had tried to erase me.
Barbara’s Downfall
I told Barbara the truth in our kitchen.
At first, she laughed. “You’re lying. You probably hacked the results, didn’t you?”
But when I showed her the DNA test and told her everything Aunt Helen had said, the color drained from her face.
“No. No, this can’t be right. Mom loved me. She wouldn’t just take in some abandoned kid!”
“She did,” I said softly. “She loved you. And this doesn’t change that.”
Barbara stared at me, her expression unreadable.
But in the end? She had tried to cut me out of my own mother’s life, and instead, she was the one who lost everything.
When we met with the lawyer again, he confirmed that the will was valid. The estate was to be split 50-50.
Barbara clenched her fists. “I don’t want to share.”
“Barbara,” the lawyer sighed, “the will is clear. Your mother wanted both of you to inherit equally. If you push this, Charlotte could actually take everything.”
Her confidence shattered.
But instead of accepting reality, Barbara snapped.
“I want to go to court,” she hissed. “I don’t care what it takes.”
That was it. I had been willing to split everything. I had been willing to let her have her half. But after everything she had done?
I wasn’t going to be the fool anymore.
I hired the lawyer for myself.
Barbara fought for months, desperate to claim everything. But she lost. The judge ruled against her.
And in the end?
I got it all.
Barbara had tried to destroy me, but in doing so, she destroyed herself.
And honestly?
She deserved every bit of it.
What would you have done?