Chapter 5 - The Sister's Ambush
I barely had time to absorb the shattering revelation in Evelyn’s letter before the aggressive crunch of tires on gravel echoed from the driveway outside. I folded the letter, slipped it securely inside my coat, and hurried toward the front foyer. Daniel met me halfway, his face tense as he held Lily close to his chest.
""We have company,"" Daniel said quietly.
Through the tall sidelight windows, I saw two vehicles parked crookedly behind our sedan: Diane’s silver Mercedes and Megan’s brand-new luxury SUV. The doors slammed in unison. Moments later, the front door rattled violently as Megan shoved her way inside, flanked by her husband Greg and Diane right behind them.
""So this is where you ran off to!"" Megan barked, not even bothering to wipe her designer boots on the welcome mat. She looked around the grand foyer with naked avarice, her eyes devouring the crystal chandelier and the sweeping spiral staircase. ""You really thought you could just sneak in here and steal our family home, Claire?""
""You are trespassing inside my house, Megan,"" I said, my voice dropping into an icy register that made Greg visibly hesitate. ""Get out before I have the county police escort you off the grounds.""
""Your house?!"" Megan laughed shrilly, stepping forward with her hands on her hips. ""You’ve always been jealous of me! Just because Grandma was losing her mind doesn't give you the right to rob us! Greg and I already hired a decorator last month because Mom promised us Oakridge would be our wedding gift once probate cleared!""
""She had no right to promise you anything,"" I replied. ""Mom never owned this house, and neither did you.""
Diane stepped forward then, her face a mask of patronizing pity. She looked at Daniel, then at Lily, as if she were addressing wayward children who simply needed a firm hand. ""Claire, stop this embarrassing charade. Look at yourselves. You live in a cramped rental. Daniel works sixty hours a week as a mechanic. You work part-time in medical billing. You cannot afford to replace a single roof shingle on this place.""
""We know about the six-hundred-thousand-dollar maintenance trust, Diane,"" Daniel interjected coldly. ""We know the estate is completely funded for the next two decades. So stop lying.""
Diane’s eyes flashed with venomous shock. She turned to Megan, who looked momentarily panicked. ""Arthur Pendelton told you,"" Diane whispered, realization sinking in. Her voice turned vicious. ""That senile old bastard violated attorney-client privilege!""
""No, Diane,"" I said, taking a step toward her. ""Arthur followed Evelyn’s instructions to the letter. But speaking of violations... what happened to the eight hundred thousand dollars Grandfather left in trust for me when I was a baby?""
The air in the grand foyer instantly froze.
Diane turned as pale as freshly fallen snow. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Greg looked between Diane and Megan with genuine confusion, while Megan’s arrogant sneer faltered, replaced by an uneasy, defensive scowl.
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""What... what are you talking about?"" Diane stammered, her voice suddenly thin and reedy.
""I have Evelyn’s letter right here,"" I said, tapping my chest where the pages rested. ""I have the account numbers. I have the dates of the court filings where you appointed yourself conservator of my trust fund and drained every single penny to buy Megan designer horses and pay for your country club memberships. You stole my inheritance, Diane. And then, when my baby was in the NICU and I needed five thousand dollars to keep the lights on, you loaned me back my own stolen money and forced me to crawl on my knees to repay it!""
