Barrett called next, followed by a sobbing Serena and then my mother, but I refused to answer any of them. The next morning, I met with my attorney to finalize the lawsuit, and that was when the most painful truth emerged.
A significant portion of my stolen inheritance had been used to pay for Tristan’s medical schooling and Barrett’s initial equipment. Even Serena’s lavish wedding had been funded by the money that was supposed to secure my own future.
My siblings hadn’t just been the favorites; they had unknowingly lived off the wealth that was stolen from me. When that realization set in, the family that once mocked me began to tear itself apart from the inside out.
Wesley Rhodes lived in Asheville and spent his days teaching history at a small college. He wasn’t a man of great wealth or social standing, and we agreed to meet at a quiet diner located halfway between our lives.
He was already there when I arrived, his hands trembling slightly as he stared into his cup of black coffee. When he saw me walk through the door, he stood up so quickly that his silverware rattled against the table.