At my grandmother’s will reading, my mother sat in front of fourteen silent people, watched the lawyer read out a $2.3 million estate that somehow included everyone but me, then turned with a smile so calm it felt practiced and said, “You were always her least favorite.” And for one humiliating second, I thought she had finally found the perfect way to erase me in public.

I stepped out onto the porch to catch my breath and ran into Mrs. Higgins who had been Rosalind’s closest neighbor and confidante for over forty years. She squeezed my hand tightly and whispered that Rosalind had talked about me every single day while adding a cryptic warning that my grandmother was far smarter than anyone gave her credit for.

“She knew exactly what they were planning, Tessa, so you must stay strong and wait for the truth to come out,” Mrs. Higgins said before walking back to her own house. Five days after the funeral, I called my father to ask about the will reading but he was incredibly vague and told me that I did not need to worry about the paperwork.

“Am I even included in the documents, Dad?” I asked while gripping the phone so hard that my knuckles turned white. My father paused for several seconds before responding that we would discuss everything at the formal reading with the family lawyer, Mr. Banks, at his office downtown.