The Inheritance: A Sister’s Betrayal and a Grandfather’s Love
My name is Sarah, and I’m 27 years old. Six months ago, I experienced a profound loss when my grandfather, who had been my primary caregiver, passed away. Today marks a pivotal moment as the lawyer is set to open his will. To navigate this emotional journey, I find solace in the company of my only family member, my sister Lisa, who is four years my senior.
Tragedy struck our family two decades ago when our parents succumbed to a tragic accident. Since then, Lisa and I have been raised by our loving grandparents. However, the passing of our grandmother due to illness left a void in our family. My grandfather’s spirits dwindled with each passing year, and he suffered from frequent bouts of illness. Fueled by concern, I chose to live in an apartment near his house, making regular visits to check on his well-being. Despite my efforts, my grandfather would playfully admonish me, insisting that as a grown woman, it was unbecoming for me to keep returning home. Nevertheless, he always maintained a cheerful disposition.
Then, fate took an unexpected turn. On a routine visit, I discovered my grandfather in agonizing pain at the entrance. In a panic, I called for an ambulance, but sadly, my grandfather passed away suddenly.
Today is a momentous day as the lawyer arrives to unveil the contents of my grandfather’s will. Lisa’s voice breaks through my thoughts, reminding me to prepare some tea for the occasion. As I head to the kitchen, I catch a glimpse of Lisa lounging on the mat, her strong perfume lingering in the air. She seems unchanged, just as she always has been.
Reflecting on our shared history, I recall Lisa’s teenage rebellious phase: dyeing her hair, associating with delinquents, and living a carefree life. Despite her actions causing trouble and our grandparents frequently apologizing on her behalf, Lisa remained unfazed. Even as adults, she continued to drift through life, working part-time and relying on our grandfather for financial support.
The lawyer’s arrival prompts me to bring tea to the table. Lisa’s formal greeting echoes through the air, acknowledging the significance of the day. The lawyer, with kind eyes reminiscent of my grandfather’s, sips the tea and proceeds to reveal the contents of the will, which stipulate that Lisa inherits a substantial sum of $20 million, while I am bequeathed the family home and its accompanying land.
Upon hearing the distribution, Lisa bursts into laughter, leaving me to contemplate the implications of this unexpected turn of events. A staggering sum of $20 million was handed over in cold hard cash to my elder sister as her inheritance, while I, on the other hand, found myself bestowed with nothing but an ancient, dilapidated house. The irony of the situation struck me, and I couldn’t help but find it amusing.
“How hilarious,” I muttered under my breath, contemplating the vast difference in our inheritances.
“It’s just right for someone as plain as you,” my sister teased, her laughter echoing in the air.
My attempt to salvage the situation was met with further mockery as I pointed out that the house came with a considerable piece of land. “It’s not just the house; there’s also the land!” I retorted, to which my sister responded with a snickering laugh. The perceived value of the land in this seemingly god-forsaken place didn’t escape her notice.
“Ah, I would have preferred cash. I guess Grandpa must have had a soft spot for me after all,” I remarked, trying to mask the disappointment in my voice. Admitting that I was a bit shocked, I reasoned that my grandfather probably wanted me to safeguard the cherished house and land where he had spent a significant part of his life with my grandmother.
“Huh? A house and land? That’s pretty awesome, isn’t it?” my boyfriend Jason exclaimed in surprise as he absorbed the details of my inheritance. However, I couldn’t share in his enthusiasm, shaking my head to imply that it wasn’t as great as it sounded. As I recounted the tale, a sense of emptiness crept over me. Verbalizing the situation felt like an acknowledgment of my perceived inferiority.
Jason, attempting to lighten the mood, made an insensitive comment about the desirability of being beautiful and wealthy. I shot him a side glance, silently reproaching him for his lack of tact. Recognizing his misstep, he quickly joked about prioritizing my comfort over material wealth. Jason had been my boyfriend since we met at a social event, and today marked our first date in a more casual setting. As I shared the details of my inheritance, I couldn’t help but think about the possibility of him becoming my husband someday. Little did I know that this revelation would lead to unforeseen regret.
Days later, as I visited the family home to begin the daunting task of cleaning and organizing my grandfather’s belongings, I contemplated the idea of moving into the house. Its proximity to my workplace made it a tempting prospect. “Perhaps,” I thought, “I could live here comfortably with a cat.” The absence of rent payments was an appealing notion, and I rationalized that any maintenance costs could be covered with my hard-earned savings. The thought of sharing this space with Jason even crossed my mind, and I blushed at the embarrassment of such a premature consideration.
Rolling up my sleeves to commence the cleaning, my contemplation was interrupted by the ringing of my smartphone. Glancing at the screen, I saw my sister’s name flashing, signaling an unexpected turn in the events that were about to unfold.
“Greetings, Sarah! How are you faring in that quaint old house of yours? I trust you’re finding solace in your own company?” my sister, on the other hand, appeared to be reveling in a state of inebriation. She’s always had this distinct manner of elongating her words, but today it seemed particularly pronounced. I couldn’t help but notice her somewhat inebriated state when she casually remarked about the time, her words drawn out with a peculiar flair. In response to her questionable choice of beverage during the afternoon, I couldn’t help but sigh. To this, she dramatically sighed back, labeling me as the perennial “Miss Goody Two Shoes.”
It became increasingly evident that her mirth was fueled by more than just the spirits when she inquired about my future plans. I cautiously mentioned my contemplation of relocating to this local, eventually hoping to steer the conversation in a different direction. However, she seized the opportunity to boast about her current opulent surroundings in a luxurious hotel suite, injecting an air of exaggerated enthusiasm into her voice. With an air of mystery, she challenged me to guess her current company. My lack of knowledge on the matter was met with disdain as she proclaimed my attitude could jeopardize my standing with someone named Jason. Much to my astonishment, Jason himself intervened in our conversation, catching me off guard and sparking a whirlwind of perplexing thoughts.
As Jason’s voice filled the airwaves, a myriad of questions flooded my mind. The sudden revelation of my sister’s connection with him painted a disconcerting picture. My imagination began to craft an unpleasant scenario, one that left me feeling dizzy and disoriented. The revelation continued with my sister callously sharing her conquest of Jason’s attention, regaling me with tales of how she had identified his workplace through me, approached him as he left work, and ensnared him with her charms. The words spilled forth boastfully, leaving me in stunned silence. Apologies followed, but they were insufficient to quell the emotional turmoil that gripped me.
Jason’s voice returned, and as he explained his actions, a cold sensation enveloped me, as if my very essence was being drained away. The realization that he found my sister more attractive and lucrative further heightened the sense of betrayal. In an attempt to articulate my feelings, I found myself speechless. Jason continued to justify his actions, as though imploring me to understand the irresistible allure of a woman with substantial wealth. I recoiled at his words, feeling the sting of rejection and humiliation. In the background, my sister laughed uproariously, reveling in the chaos she had unleashed. The phone passed back to her, and with a finality that cut deep, she declared the end of our sisterly bond. The words hung in the air, resonating with a harsh finality. The notion of sisterhood shattered, reduced to mere fragments of a bond forever lost.
The subsequent five years have been marked by solitude and heartache. As I sit with a cat dozing off on my lap, memories of that fateful call still linger, etched into the fabric of my existence. The room was filled with the gentle hum of the cat purring contentedly in its sleep. Despite it being my day off, there lingered a bit of unfinished work that I had brought home. With a sense of guilt, I contemplated the tasks at hand.
The tranquility of the moment was disrupted when my phone began to ring, an unfamiliar number lighting up the screen. Considering it might be work-related, I answered the call without suspicion.
“Hello,” I greeted, only to be met with a familiar voice.
“Sarah, long time no see,” said my sister Lisa, instantly recognizable by her distinctive way of speaking. Despite the passage of five years, her mannerisms remained unchanged. A smirk formed on my face as I acknowledged her.
As our conversation unfolded, Lisa probed into my personal life, questioning the presence of a hotel near my home. Unwilling to disclose details, I brushed off her inquiries. The conversation took an unexpected turn when she divulged her financial struggles, having squandered her inheritance in a mere two years. Even Jason, who remained in her company, was drowning in debt. I listened in silence, my initial annoyance giving way to a profound sense of detachment. When Lisa boldly requested a loan, I responded calmly, revealing the consequences of her past actions.
Memories from five years ago flooded back, recalling the day Jason broke up with me. Devastated, I found solace in a painting I had gifted to my grandfather as a child. In a moment of introspection, I revisited the past and discovered a hidden note behind the painting, addressed to me. It was a letter from my grandfather just before his passing. He explained the seemingly uneven distribution of his estate, emphasizing his appreciation for my unwavering care. The revelation brought clarity to the lingering questions about favoritism. As I absorbed the contents of the letter, a shudder ran down my spine at the realization that I could have overlooked this important message. The letter provided closure, dispelling any doubts about my grandfather’s intentions. It was a testament to the enduring bonds within our family, and I finally understood the true significance of the estate distribution.
Regardless of Grandpa’s perceptions, I found myself deeply affected by Lisa’s hurtful words during that time. Despite my strong bond with my grandfather, a tinge of jealousy lingered as I continued reading the letter. Lisa, it seemed, was not content with an ordinary distribution. She exhibited a voracious greed that even extended to her role as a granddaughter. “Yes, Grandpa, she managed to take my boyfriend away from me, and it’s a sentiment I felt compelled to share with him. Hence, I arranged the distribution in a way that though Lisa might seem to have received the more favorable portion at first glance, she wouldn’t pay attention to my share.”
Grandpa’s letter hinted at the increasing value of the land in our area due to ongoing urban development. As I read further, my eyes widened in surprise. The letter proposed living on the land if emotionally attached, or selling it for a substantial profit when its value rose. All Grandpa wanted was for me to be happy.
Upon conveying this to Lisa, she dismissed it with a disdainful click of her tongue, calling me a hag. However, I decided to follow Grandpa’s advice. I lived in the house for a while, but when my marriage was settled, I sold it as the land value had risen enough. I made it clear to Lisa that I wouldn’t lend her any money.
Frustrated, Lisa proposed returning my boyfriend Jason as a bargaining chip. “To help my sister!” That was the breaking point for me. Enough was enough. I expressed my pent-up frustration, telling Lisa that I despised her ingratitude and disowning her as my sister. I was already married and had no interest in Jason or seeing his face again. I ended the conversation, blocked her calls, and apologized to my cat for the emotional turmoil.
Following this, Lisa contacted Jason, and they stormed into our old house, mistakenly thinking I still owned it. The police were called as they destroyed several items, and it was revealed that they had committed marriage fraud for money in the past. Both were arrested and would be sent to prison. During police questioning, I proved my lack of involvement, having sold the land and severed ties with Lisa.
Released, my husband picked me up from the police station. As we walked through the station, we witnessed Lisa and Jason, unrecognizable and distressed, being moved to another location. Despite a sense of melancholy, my husband and I shared a knowing look. Holding his extended hand, we left the police station together.
Concerned, my husband asked if I was okay. To which I responded that I had him and our unborn child in my belly. In that moment, I realized that while money is important, there are more valuable things in life. With my husband by my side, I looked forward to teaching our child the importance of love and family.