I thought my father’s will would secure my future—until the lawyer revealed a name I didn’t recognize: Brenna. My grandmother, Loretta, was furious. Who was she, and why did my father leave her everything?
Loretta raised me after my mother’s death, enforcing rules for every aspect of my life. When my father passed, she planned to rebuild our legacy. But in the lawyer’s office, everything changed.
“As per your father’s wishes,” he said, “Brenna inherits everything.”
A sister I never knew existed? Loretta was livid, insisting it was a mistake, but the will was clear. We needed to find Brenna and fix this.
I went to her house, a modest place filled with warmth and odd rituals. Brenna greeted me with an easy smile, and though I expected bitterness, she was kind, eager to learn about our father. She even offered me a “gift” from him.
Over the next week, I felt at peace in her world—simple, unburdened by expectations. But Loretta’s calls were relentless, urging me to convince Brenna to sign everything over. I struggled with the plan. It didn’t feel right.
One day, Loretta arrived unannounced, furious at the way I’d changed. She confronted Brenna, demanding she give up what was “ours.” But when I found old letters from Brenna’s mother, I learned Loretta had kept my father’s other daughter hidden, rejecting them both.
“You destroyed this family,” I told Loretta, finally seeing the truth. I would not let her take from Brenna any longer.
Loretta stormed off, and I apologized to Brenna. We sat together, sharing pancakes, and began building a life of our own. I helped her with her pottery, we fixed the house, and for the first time, I wasn’t living for Loretta’s rules. I was living for us—Brenna and me.
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