I turned to him.
“Are you done being entitled?”
His smirk twitched.
But before he could snap back, the woman standing behind them finally spoke.
She was tall, in her 40s maybe, with sharp eyes and a black blazer that screamed lawyer.
“Mr. Carter,” she said smoothly, like she was used to diffusing tense situations. “I’m Miss Holloway. Your parents have asked me to mediate a conversation regarding the estate left by your grandfather.”
I blinked.
“There’s nothing to mediate.”
Miss Holloway ignored that and pulled out a folder.
“Your parents believe there may have been an error in the will. They’d like to discuss a fair redistribution.”
I laughed.
I actually laughed.
A sharp, humorless sound.
“An error?”
My mom immediately stepped in.
“Sweetheart, you have to understand. Your grandfather was very old, and he wasn’t always in the best state of mind. He might not have been thinking clearly when he wrote that will.”
I clenched my jaw.
“He was in a better state of mind than you ever gave him credit for.”
Ethan groaned, rubbing his face.
“Look, this is ridiculous. You’re living in a house you don’t even deserve. You’re sitting on money you didn’t earn. Meanwhile, I’ve been struggling and you don’t even care.”
I tilted my head.
“Struggling?”
Ethan wasn’t struggling.
He had a cushy job at some marketing firm, one that my dad had pulled strings to get him.
He still lived in his fancy apartment downtown, drove a car that cost more than my entire college tuition, and spent his weekends partying.
“What exactly are you struggling with?” I asked, crossing my arms.
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“That’s not the point.”
“No, I think it is.”
I turned to my parents.
“You’re actually trying to contest the will?”
My dad exhaled sharply.
“We don’t want it to come to that. But Alex, think about it. Ethan’s your brother. We’re your family. All we’re asking for is some fairness.”
“Fairness?”
My voice was rising now.
“Where was fairness when you spent my entire childhood reminding me that I wasn’t your favorite? Where was fairness when I had to work twice as hard just to get a fraction of the attention you handed Ethan on a silver platter?”
My mom sniffled.
“We didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”
I shook my head.