Family money had never included me.
Brooke had always been the favorite—private tutors, a car at sixteen, endless praise. I was the backup child, expected to be grateful for scraps. The only one who ever treated me like I truly mattered was Grandpa Walter. He used to tell me, “Watch how people behave when they think they’ve already won.”
Attorney Harris began reading the will.
“To my granddaughter, Brooke Elaine Miller, I leave six million nine hundred thousand dollars.”
Brooke gasped theatrically. Dad chuckled with satisfaction. Mom leaned toward me and whispered, “Some kids just don’t measure up.”
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