“I declare Miss Brielle Dawson as the sole and universal heir to all my movable and immovable property, accounts, rights, and shares,” he read slowly, each word settling heavily into the silence.
Brielle exhaled with satisfaction, letting a slow smile spread across her face as if each syllable confirmed the story she had been telling herself for years.
“Do you hear that,” she said softly without fully turning toward me, her tone dripping with triumph, “he finally made his feelings official, because you were just routine while I was the one he truly loved.”
I did not respond because I had learned long ago that arguing with someone who builds their reality on illusions only leaves you speaking to your own reflection.
The attorney continued reading, listing the apartment in Silver Lake, the vacation property in Aspen Grove, and a luxury SUV, while Brielle pressed a hand dramatically to her chest and whispered, “I knew you would never leave me with nothing.”