I thought my father’s will secured my future until the lawyer revealed a name I didn’t recognize. My grandmother, Loretta, was furious. Who was Brenna, and why did my father leave her everything?
My life had always been controlled by rules, dictated by Loretta after my mother died. Everything had to be perfect—grades, posture, even napkins. It was exhausting, but I tried to please her.
After my father’s death, Loretta immediately focused on managing the family legacy. Sitting in the lawyer’s office, I felt sure of my future—until the will was read. “As per your father’s wishes, his estate goes to Brenna,” the lawyer said.
“Who?” I asked, stunned. Loretta shouted, “This must be a mistake!” The lawyer assured us it wasn’t. Brenna was my father’s other daughter. I had no idea she existed.
Loretta demanded we find Brenna and make sure she did the right thing. Reluctantly, I followed her instructions and visited Brenna’s house—a small, weathered place. Brenna greeted me warmly, and though she seemed eccentric, her kindness was undeniable. She told me our father had left her a “gift,” and she wanted to share it with me.
Over the next week, I stayed with Brenna, experiencing a life free from Loretta’s control. Simple meals, pottery, and walks by the lake—a stark contrast to the rigid, perfect world I had known. But Loretta’s calls grew more frequent, urging me to persuade Brenna to sign over the inheritance.
Then Loretta arrived unannounced, accusing Brenna of unearned entitlement. She was furious when I found letters revealing that my father had known about Brenna all along, but Loretta had kept it a secret. Confronted with the truth, I realized how much Loretta had lied to protect her control.
Brenna’s love for our father wasn’t about money—it was about a bond she’d never known. I stood by her, rejecting Loretta’s demands. Eventually, Loretta stormed off, and Brenna and I began building a life together. We grew her pottery business, restored her home, and found happiness in a simple, honest life. For the first time, I was free to live for myself.
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