Patricia’s voice came through the phone, shrill with panic. “That money was for raising you! For housing you, feeding you!”
“You gave me hand-me-downs and made me pay my own way through college,” I said. “Meanwhile, Victoria got designer clothes and a full ride to a private university. Kenneth got a new car at 16. I got nothing.”
“You’re being ungrateful!” Gregory tried. “We gave you a home!”
“You gave me a prison,” I said. The words felt powerful, liberating. “You made me feel worthless every single day. And you did it while spending money that was meant for me.”
“We’ll fight this!” Patricia threatened. “We’ll take you to court!”
“Please do,” Grandma Dorothy cut in. “I’d love to see you explain the financial records to a judge. Explain how you took money meant for a grieving five-year-old and spent it on luxury vacations.”
The call ended abruptly. They’d hung up, probably to call their own lawyer.
I felt Walter’s hand on my shoulder. “Miss Rachel, I know this is overwhelming, but you need to understand. You hold all the cards here. They have no legal ground to stand on.”
“They’ll try anyway,” I said.
“Of course they will,” Grandma Dorothy agreed. “But they’ll lose. And when they do, you’ll never have to see them again.”
Three days later, the story hit the media. Somehow—and I suspected Victoria was behind it—the details of Grandma Dorothy’s will change had leaked to the press. “Billionaire Disinherits Family For Adopted Granddaughter!” screamed the headlines. My phone wouldn’t stop ringing.
I’d moved into Grandma Dorothy’s estate temporarily, unable to face my apartment where my family knew the address. Thomas had retrieved my things, and I was living in a strange bubble of luxury and chaos. The public reaction was divided. Some praised Grandma Dorothy for rewarding character over blood. Others called me a manipulative gold digger who’d seduced an elderly woman for her fortune. The comment sections were brutal. She must have been sleeping with the old woman’s lawyer or something. Gold digger alert. This girl knew exactly what she was doing. Good for Dorothy. Family isn’t blood, it’s how you treat people. That adopted girl is going to blow through billions in a year. Watch.
I tried to ignore it, but the words burrowed under my skin. Was I wrong to accept this? Should I have refused Grandma Dorothy’s gift?
“Stop reading those,” Grandma Dorothy said, finding me hunched over my laptop in the library. She looked frailer than she had days ago, the cancer clearly progressing. “People will always have opinions. Let them talk.”
“They’re calling me terrible things,” I said.
“They called me terrible things when I built my first company,” she replied, settling into the chair beside me. “Said I was too aggressive, too masculine, too ambitious. A woman couldn’t possibly succeed in pharmaceuticals. I proved them wrong.” She took my hand, her grip weaker now. “You’ll prove them wrong too, Rachel. Not by defending yourself, but by being exactly who you are: kind, hardworking, principled.”
That afternoon, Walter arrived with news. His expression was grave. “Patricia and Gregory have officially filed to contest the will. They’re claiming diminished capacity and undue influence.”
“Let me see,” Grandma Dorothy said. Walter handed over the legal documents. I read over her shoulder, my anger building with every word. They claimed I’d isolated Grandma Dorothy from her family, that I’d manipulated a sick elderly woman, that I’d taken advantage of her declining mental state.
“This is ridiculous,” I said. “I didn’t even know about the cancer until that night.”
“We have evidence proving otherwise,” Walter assured me, “including testimony from medical staff, friends, business associates. They’re grasping at straws.” But something in Walter’s expression made me nervous. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He exchanged a glance with Grandma Dorothy. “Victoria has hired a private investigator. They’re digging into your background, looking for anything they can use against you.”
My stomach dropped. “There’s nothing to find.”
“We know that,” Grandma Dorothy said. “But they’ll try to create something. Twist innocent situations. Take things out of context.”
As if on cue, my phone rang. An unknown number. Against my better judgment, I answered.
Leave a Comment