I clenched my jaw.
That one stung.
Not because it was true, but because I knew exactly what Ethan was doing.
He had always been good at guilt-tripping me.
For years, he had used our parents’ words as weapons, making me feel small, making me question myself.
But this time, it didn’t work.
I replied, “Grandpa left everything to me for a reason. He saw through the lies. Maybe you should too.”
No response.
Typical.
Then came the court date.
I arrived with my lawyer, dressed sharp but calm.
My parents were already seated, looking significantly worse than the last time I saw them.
My mother’s usual elegance was gone. Her makeup looked rushed, and the stress lines around her mouth were deeper.
My father looked stiff, his hands clasped so tightly they were turning white.
Ethan, on the other hand, looked furious.
Like a kid who had been told Christmas was canceled.
As I sat down, my mother turned to me, her voice low but dripping with venom.
“Are you proud of yourself?”
I met her gaze evenly.
“Are you?”
Before she could answer, the judge walked in.
And the case began.
Their lawyer opened with some half-hearted argument about how my grandfather had been pressured by me, that he hadn’t been in his right mind when he changed the will.
But the moment my lawyer stood up, she shredded their claims apart with cold, hard facts.
She pulled out signed medical reports from my grandfather’s doctors, all confirming his mental sharpness.
She presented records of his independent meetings with his attorney, proving that he had made his decisions without coercion.
Then came the real kicker.
She showed a letter.
A personal letter my grandfather had written to me before he passed.
It wasn’t legally necessary, but it was the final nail in the coffin.
In it, he explained his decision.
He had seen how my parents treated me.
He had watched Ethan grow up into someone who felt entitled to everything but worked for nothing.
He wanted me to have the resources to build my own life, free from their influence.
When I glanced at my parents, my mother had gone pale.
My father’s jaw was clenched so hard I thought his teeth might crack.
Ethan?
He looked betrayed, as if it had never even occurred to him that Grandpa might have actually cared about me more than him.
The judge ruled in my favor.