Mr. Whitman opened the folder and adjusted his glasses. His voice remained steady, but each word struck like thunder.
“To my stepdaughter, Anna, I leave my residence on Lakeview Drive, valued at approximately three million dollars.”
The room seemed to tilt. For a heartbeat, no one breathed — and then chaos erupted.
Lisa leapt to her feet, chair scraping harshly against the floor. “What?! That’s ridiculous!” she screamed, her face flushed red. “She must have forged it! There’s no way!”
Jonathan leaned forward, fists clenched. “Why would Mom leave you anything? You weren’t even family to her! This is some kind of scam.”
Emily slammed her phone onto the table so hard it rattled. “Oh, please. This reeks of manipulation. What did you do, Anna? Sneak in and twist her mind when no one was looking?”
Their words burned, but my voice wouldn’t come. My throat felt raw.
