“No,” I said evenly. “You are.”
Robert went on. “She changed the will. Everything goes to us. You get nothing.”
The color drained from Dad’s face. “That’s impossible.”
“It isn’t,” I replied. “It’s already been done.”
Laura stepped away from him. “You said it was taken care of.”
I looked at both of them. “This wedding didn’t secure your future. It revealed the truth.”
We left without a goodbye.
Months later, Laura left him as well. Love, it turns out, disappears quickly when there’s nothing left to inherit.
Mom was right. She didn’t battle while she was dying. She won—quietly.
