I cared for my mother through her final days, putting aside my time, career, and well-being to ensure she was never alone. When the will was read, I expected the house—the place I had poured so much love into—to be left to me. But instead, I was blindsided. My mother had left everything to my younger sister, Phoebe. The sting of betrayal cut deep, but as I uncovered the truth behind her decision, it unraveled secrets that changed how I saw my family—and myself.
I drove toward my late mother’s house, the weight of her passing pressing down on me. The funeral had been a week ago, and now it was my turn to handle the practical matters left behind. As always, the responsibility fell on me, the “rational” daughter. I had been the one to care for Mom during her illness, feeding her, comforting her, holding her hand through it all. I thought I knew her heart.
Beside me, my husband, Dan, sat in silence. The faint smell of alcohol clung to him, though he swore he’d quit drinking. My patience was wearing thin. Pulling into the driveway, I saw the lawyer waiting outside, briefcase in hand.
“Why are you out here?” I asked. “Isn’t the door unlocked?”
“It’s locked,” he replied. “Your sister hasn’t arrived yet.”
Of course, Phoebe wasn’t there. She was always unreliable, floating through life while I took on the heavy lifting. When she finally arrived, her disheveled appearance told me she wasn’t handling Mom’s death well. I wanted to criticize her, but the sadness in her eyes stopped me. I knew losing Mom had hit her harder than anyone could see. She had always been Mom’s favorite.
When we finally sat down for the will reading, I braced myself. But nothing could have prepared me for what came next.
“The house and all assets go to Phoebe,” the lawyer announced.
“What?” I blurted, my stomach dropping as Dan erupted beside me, pointing an accusatory finger at Phoebe. She ran out, her face crumpling under the weight of the moment. I followed her to the backyard, where she sat on Mom’s favorite bench, looking like she might break.
“Sell me the house,” I said bluntly, anger bubbling beneath the surface.
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