For a while, I believed him. Grief blurred the details, and I didn’t have the strength to question much. My mother had always been organized, the kind of person who labeled every box and kept every letter. But when it came to her passing, it seemed as though her final wishes had vanished.
Months later, while sorting through her old files, I discovered a sealed envelope tucked behind family photos. Inside was her will — clear, dated, and signed. She had left me half of everything. My heart pounded as I realized she had thought of me, cared for me, and trusted I’d honor her memory. When I confronted my stepdad, he said he’d “earned it” by taking care of her. His words cut deep, not just for their dishonesty, but for how lightly he treated her intentions.Family games
