The family home, her personal savings, and her controlling shares in the firm her husband had founded were all left directly to me, not to Dean. And it wasn’t a split either!
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Then I looked at the letter.
My eyes scanned the will first.
“My dearest daughter. By the time you read this, my son will have already done what he’s been planning. Don’t be ashamed of being caught off guard. I wasn’t always sure either until I made sure.”
I kept reading.
“Two summers ago, I picked up Dean’s phone when it rang, and you were in the garden. It was a woman named Whitney, and the way Dean spoke to her when I handed it over told me everything. A week later, I found a hotel receipt in the jacket you’d brought for me to mend.”
I was confused.
“I wasn’t always sure either.”
“I had a doctor confirm that my mind was clear. Mr. Hartwell helped me change everything, and I asked a private investigator named Reyes to look quietly into the rest.”
I flipped to the next pages.
- Screenshots of messages.
- Hotel receipts.
- A summary written by Reyes, dated and signed.
