I devoted myself to caring for my mother until her very last moments, giving up everything to be by her side. Yet, when her will was finally read, I received nothing at all. The betrayal was soul-crushing, but uncovering the reasons behind her decision—and the family secrets that emerged—completely altered my understanding of both my family and myself.
I was driving to my late mother’s home, burdened by the weight of her loss. The funeral had only taken place the previous week, and now I faced the grim task of managing the aftermath—the difficult, practical decisions that always seemed to fall on my shoulders. As usual, I was the one our family depended on; it had been the same during her illness when I was the sole pillar of support.
I had stayed by her side through every hardship—feeding her, bathing her, and ensuring she was never alone. I had been convinced that she would leave the house to me, not to Phoebe.
Phoebe, my younger sister, had always been complicated—unconventional, unpredictable, and somehow perpetually broken in ways that life never seemed to mend. Despite the distance between us, I couldn’t help but worry about her.
Sitting in the car next to me, Dan exuded the faint odor of alcohol. Though he had promised to quit drinking, the familiar scent betrayed him, and I felt my resolve weakening.
We eventually arrived at my mother’s house, and the sight of it sent a fresh stab of grief through me. There, waiting outside with his briefcase, was the lawyer I had hired.
“Hi,” I greeted him as we got out of the car. “Why aren’t you inside?”
“It’s locked,” he replied, glancing toward the house.
“Locked?” I echoed, frowning. “Phoebe isn’t here yet? She said she’d be early.”
I pulled out my phone and tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail.
“Her phone’s off. Great,” I muttered, slipping it back into my pocket. And I didn’t have the keys either.
Dan, standing behind me, shook his head. “Your sister, as always. She probably needs someone to babysit her or something,” he murmured.
“She’ll be here soon,” I assured him, giving him a firm look that silenced any further comment.
A few minutes later, I saw Phoebe approaching the driveway. Her hair was a mess, and streaks of mascara marred her tired eyes—she clearly hadn’t slept.
“Rough night, huh?” I asked, crossing my arms.
Phoebe offered a weak smirk. “Is it that obvious?”
“Get yourself together; the lawyer’s waiting,” I said, gesturing toward the house.
“Oh, please,” she scoffed as she brushed past me. “We all know the house is going to you—you’re the perfect daughter, aren’t you?”
I clenched my teeth and chose not to respond. I knew Phoebe was struggling; my mother’s death had hit her hard, and people always remarked on how much she resembled Mom.
Inside, we sat as the lawyer began to read the will in a monotonous tone until he finally delivered the words I never expected.
“The house and all assets go to Phoebe.”
“What?” I blurted out, staring in disbelief. “Are you saying the house goes to Phoebe?”
“I’m simply reading what’s written,” the lawyer replied calmly.
“That’s not fair!” Dan exploded. “My wife was the only one who truly cared for her! She did nothing wrong!” He jabbed a finger in Phoebe’s direction.
At that, Phoebe abruptly stood up, her face crumbling, and she rushed outside.
“Dan!” I snapped at him.
“What? You know I’m right,” he retorted, his voice still heated.
I said nothing and instead followed Phoebe outside. I found her sitting on the bench in the backyard—a spot Mom had always adored. She looked exhausted, her shoulders slumped and her hands nervously fidgeting.
“Sorry about Dan,” I said softly as I approached her.
“It’s fine,” she replied flatly. “He’s always like that. You should leave him.”
“I can’t; he’s my husband,” I murmured.
Phoebe remained silent for a moment before I blurted, “Sell me the house.”
Startled, she turned toward me. “What?”
“You need money for your flower shop,” I explained, striving for a calm tone. “Sell it to me. I’ll tear it down and build the house I’ve always dreamed of. I was sure Mom would leave it to me—not you.”
“No,” she cut in firmly.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” I demanded, frowning.
“I’m not selling the house to you. Mom left it to me,” she declared, her voice rising.
“You did nothing to earn it!” I shouted, emotions bursting out. “I cared for her—fed her, bathed her, paid her bills. I was there when she couldn’t walk. And yet, she gave it to you because you were her favorite!”
“You have everything, Katherine!” Phoebe screamed, standing now. “A good job, a husband—even if he’s less than perfect—and endless opportunities. You even had a job offer abroad! But you can’t decide! I have nothing but this house.”
“And I have responsibilities! Do you know why I didn’t take that job? Because I couldn’t leave you behind! You couldn’t handle it!”
“Get out!” Phoebe yelled, her face flushed. “I’m not giving you the house!”
“Then I’ll take it!” I shouted, storming away.
I wanted nothing more than to forget our argument and let her be, even though deep down I knew I did have everything. I could always buy another house, but Dan wouldn’t let the matter rest. He kept urging me to contest the will, insisting it wasn’t fair and that I deserved the house.
I couldn’t understand why it mattered so much to him, but his persistence eventually wore me down.
Thus began a long ordeal—lawyers, endless debates over the will, and meetings with Phoebe, who seemed indifferent to it all, shrugging through each session as if nothing mattered.
Then, just days before our court date, I discovered something unexpected. In Dan’s office, I found a stack of overdue bills and debt notices. My stomach dropped as I realized he was drowning in debt. I grabbed the papers and marched into the bedroom where Dan was lying on the bed.
“Do you have anything to explain?” I asked sharply, holding up the documents.
Dan sat up, looking pale. “Katherine, it’s all just a misunderstanding,” he said hastily.
“A misunderstanding?” I repeated, my voice rising. “Look at how much debt you have! Where did all this come from?”
He rubbed his face and avoided my gaze. “We can fix this,” he murmured.
“Fix it? Is that why you pushed me to fight Phoebe for the house—so we could sell it and cover your debts?” I snapped.
His frustration finally broke through. “She doesn’t deserve it anyway!” he shouted. “She’s ruining our lives! You run to her every time she calls! And you never even wanted to contest the will, even though you were the one who cared for Mom!”
“Because Phoebe couldn’t handle seeing Mom like that!” I yelled back. “It broke her. So where did these debts come from, Dan?”
His shoulders slumped as he mumbled, “Gambling.”
“Gambling?” I echoed, stunned.
“But if we sell the house,” he continued quickly, “I’ll pay everything back. I’ll quit for good. This can fix everything.”
“Like you quit drinking?” I retorted icily.
Dan said nothing, his guilt plain on his face.
“You’re impossible,” I muttered, shaking my head. I turned, grabbed my keys, and drove back to Mom’s house—the only place I wanted to be. I rang the doorbell, and Phoebe answered almost immediately, her expression annoyed.
“What? Are you here to persuade me again before the court date?”
“No,” I said, stepping inside as she moved aside. “Dan gambled away a ton of money.”
Her expression shifted from irritation to surprise, and she silently led me to the backyard. We sat on the bench Mom loved most.
After a moment of quiet, Phoebe finally said, “We can sell the house and split the money.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not doing that. Mom left the house to you—it was her wish.”
“But you were going to take it from me,” she whispered, accusatorily.
I nodded, a surge of shame washing over me. “That was just an empty threat in the heat of the moment. Then Dan forced me into it, and now I understand why.”
“You’re not going to cover his debt?” Phoebe asked, studying me.
“No,” I said firmly. “The only person I’d sacrifice everything for is you.”
Phoebe fell silent, staring at the ground. Finally, she apologized, “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I’ve always felt like I lived in your shadow—always the Katherine, always the serious one, while I was just the odd one who made jokes.”
“Just like Mom,” I replied, smiling gently.
“Yeah,” she agreed with a small smile.
“I know you struggled because it was too painful to see her the way I did. Mom always said she loved you more. That’s why I always felt overshadowed,” I admitted.
Phoebe laughed softly. “Maybe Mom should have taken a few parenting lessons before having kids.”
We both laughed.
“So, what are you going to do?” she asked after a pause.
“I’m going to leave Dan, give you money for your flower shop, and take that job abroad,” I declared.
“Katherine,” Phoebe said, making me look at her.
“Yes?” I replied.
“I’ll be fine. And so will you,” she reassured me.
“Yeah, I know,” I said, pulling her into a tight hug.