She was right. Any tiny part of me that had hoped for reconciliation, that had wondered if maybe I was too sensitive or ungrateful, died in that moment. They hadn’t just been cruel. They’d been criminals.
«What do I do?» I felt lost, overwhelmed.
«You let me handle it,» Grandma Dorothy said. «Walter has already filed a civil suit against Patricia and Gregory for misappropriation of trust funds. With interest over twenty-two years, they owe you approximately 2.3 million dollars.»
My phone exploded with calls again. This time, it was my father. «Answer it,» Grandma Dorothy said. «Put it on speaker. Let’s hear what he has to say.»
With shaking hands, I accepted the call. «Rachel,» Gregory’s voice was desperate. «Rachel, please, we need to talk. Your grandmother isn’t thinking clearly.»
«She seems perfectly clear to me,» I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
«This is insane. You can’t possibly think you deserve her entire fortune. You’ve been with us for twenty-two years, and suddenly you turn on us the moment money is involved?»
«The moment money is involved?» I repeated. «You mean like the seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars you took for adopting me? The money you spent on everyone except me?»
Silence. Then, «I don’t know what lies she’s been telling you.»
«Bank records don’t lie, Dad.» The word felt bitter. «Walter has all the documentation. You stole from me. You both did.»
Patricia’s voice came through the phone, shrill with panic. «That money was for raising you! For housing you! Feeding you!»
«You gave me hand-me-downs and made me pay my own way through college,» I said. «Meanwhile, Victoria got designer clothes and a full ride to a private university. Kenneth got a new car at sixteen. I got nothing.»
«You’re being ungrateful,» Gregory tried. «We gave you a home.»
«You gave me a prison,» I said, the words feeling powerful, liberating. «You made me feel worthless every single day, and you did it while spending money that was meant for me.»
«We’ll fight this,» Patricia threatened. «We’ll take you to court.»
«Please do,» Grandma Dorothy cut in. «I’d love to see you explain the financial records to a judge, explain how you took money meant for a grieving five-year-old and spent it on luxury vacations.» The call ended abruptly. They’d hung up, probably to call their own lawyer.
Walter placed a hand on my shoulder. «Miss Rachel, I know this is overwhelming, but you need to understand. You hold all the cards here. They have no legal ground to stand on.»
«They’ll try anyway,» I said.
«Of course they will,» Grandma Dorothy agreed. «But they’ll lose. And when they do, you’ll never have to see them again.»
Three days later, the story hit the media. Somehow, and I suspected Victoria was behind it, the details of Grandma Dorothy’s will change had leaked to the press. «Billionaire Disinherits Family for Adopted Granddaughter,» screamed the headlines. My phone wouldn’t stop ringing with reporters wanting statements.
I’d moved into Grandma Dorothy’s estate temporarily, unable to face my apartment where my family knew the address. Thomas had retrieved my things, and I was living in a strange bubble of luxury and chaos. The public reaction was divided. Some praised Grandma Dorothy for rewarding character over blood. Others called me a manipulative gold-digger who’d seduced an elderly woman for her fortune.
The comment sections were brutal.
«She must have been sleeping with the old woman’s lawyer or something.»
«Gold-digger alert. This girl knew exactly what she was doing.»
«Good for Dorothy. Family isn’t blood, it’s how you treat people.»
«That adopted girl is going to blow through billions in a year. Watch.»
I tried to ignore it, but the words burrowed under my skin. Was I wrong to accept this? Should I have refused Grandma Dorothy’s gift?
«Stop reading those,» Grandma Dorothy said, finding me hunched over my laptop in the library. She looked frailer than she had days ago, the cancer clearly progressing. «People will always have opinions. Let them talk.»
«They’re calling me terrible things,» I said.
«They called me terrible things when I built my first company,» she replied, settling into the chair beside me. «Said I was too aggressive, too masculine, too ambitious. That a woman couldn’t possibly succeed in pharmaceuticals. I proved them wrong.» She took my hand, her grip weaker now. «You’ll prove them wrong too, Rachel. Not by defending yourself, but by being exactly who you are: kind, hardworking, and principled.»
That afternoon, Walter arrived with news. «Patricia and Gregory have officially filed to contest the will. They’re claiming diminished capacity and undue influence.»
«Let me see,» Grandma Dorothy said. Walter handed over the legal documents. I read over her shoulder, my anger building with every word. They claimed I’d isolated Grandma Dorothy from her family, that I’d manipulated a sick, elderly woman, that I’d taken advantage of her declining mental state.
«This is ridiculous,» I said. «I didn’t even know about the cancer until that night.»
«We have evidence proving otherwise,» Walter assured me, «including testimony from medical staff, friends, and business associates. They’re grasping at straws.» But something in his expression made me nervous.
«What aren’t you telling me?»
He exchanged a glance with Grandma Dorothy. «Victoria has hired a private investigator. They’re digging into your background, looking for anything they can use against you.»
My stomach dropped. «There’s nothing to find.»
«We know that,» Grandma Dorothy said. «But they’ll try to create something. Twist innocent situations, take things out of context.»
As if on cue, my phone rang. An unknown number. Against my better judgment, I answered. «Rachel, it’s so good to finally reach you.» The voice was unfamiliar, syrupy sweet. «I’m Jennifer Cole from Seattle Scene Magazine. I’d love to chat about your relationship with Dorothy.»
«No comment,» I said, moving to hang up.
«Wait, I just have a few questions about the allegations.»
«What allegations?»
«About your business. There are questions about where you got your startup capital. Some people are suggesting Dorothy funded it years ago, that you’ve been planning this takeover for a long time.»
My blood ran cold. «That’s not true. I built my business with my own money.»
«Can you prove that? Do you have documentation?»
I hung up, my hands shaking. «They’re trying to create a narrative,» Walter said grimly. «That you’ve been grooming Dorothy for years. That everything you’ve accomplished was really her money.»
«But it wasn’t. I have loan documents, business records.»
«We know,» Grandma Dorothy soothed. «And we’ll prove it. But Rachel, you need to prepare yourself. This is going to get worse before it gets better.»
She was right. By evening, social media was flooded with theories. Anonymous accounts, probably my family, were spreading rumors that I’d failed out of community college (I’d graduated with honors), that my business was failing (it was thriving), that I’d had multiple affairs with wealthy older men (I’d barely dated in years). The cruelest rumor was that I’d somehow caused my birth parents’ death to access their trust fund. I was five years old when they died. But facts didn’t matter to internet trolls.
I closed my laptop, feeling sick. «Miss Rachel?» Thomas appeared at the library door. «There are reporters at the gate. Quite a few of them.»
I walked to the window overlooking the front of the estate. News vans lined the street, their cameras pointed at the house. My private life was now a public spectacle. «This is what they want,» I said quietly. «They want me to crack. To do something that makes me look bad.»
«Then don’t give them the satisfaction,» Grandma Dorothy said. She looked exhausted, but her eyes were still fierce. «We fight this the right way. With truth, with evidence, with dignity.»
That night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept replaying moments from my childhood: Patricia telling me I was lucky they’d taken me in; Victoria laughing when I didn’t get invited to her birthday party; Kenneth pushing me into the pool at a family gathering while everyone laughed. Every moment of exclusion, every casual cruelty, all building to this moment.
Around two in the morning, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. «You’re going to regret this. We’ll destroy you. -V.»
Victoria. Threatening me from a burner phone. I screenshot it and sent it to Walter. Evidence. Grandma Dorothy had taught me well.
The next morning brought a new development. Kenneth showed up at the estate, somehow talking his way past security. I found him in the foyer, arguing with Thomas. «I need to see Rachel,» he was saying. «Please, it’s important.»
«It’s okay, Thomas,» I said, though my heart was racing. «I’ll talk to him.»
Kenneth looked terrible. Unshaven, his clothes wrinkled, dark circles under his eyes—nothing like the polished banker I’d grown up with. «Rachel, please,» he said. «We need to fix this. The family is falling apart.»
«The family fell apart a long time ago,» I said. «You’re just noticing now because money’s involved.»
«That’s not fair. I know we weren’t always… I know we could have been better to you. But this?» He gestured around the estate. «Cutting us out completely? That’s too far.»
«Too far?» My voice rose, despite my attempt to stay calm. «Kenneth, you pushed me into a pool when I was twelve and I nearly drowned because I didn’t know how to swim. Nobody taught me because swimming lessons were for ‘real family.’ Victoria told everyone at school I was adopted because my real parents didn’t want me. Mom forgot my birthday three years in a row. Dad told me I should be grateful for scraps. And you all spent seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars that was meant for me while I worked three jobs to pay for community college.»
Kenneth’s face went white. «I didn’t know about that money. I swear.»
«You didn’t know because you never asked. None of you ever asked about me. About my life. About whether I was okay.» The words poured out, years of pain finally finding voice. «You want to fix the family? There’s nothing to fix. It was broken from the start.»
«Rachel, please…»
«Get out.» My voice was steady now, cold. «Get out of this house and don’t come back.»
«You’re making a mistake,» Kenneth said, but there was no conviction in it. «When Grandma’s gone, you’ll have no one.»
«I already had no one,» I said. «At least now I’ll have resources to build an actual life.»
Thomas escorted Kenneth out. Through the window, I watched my brother walk to his car, shoulders slumped. For a moment, just a moment, I felt a pang of something—not quite guilt, but a sad acknowledgment of what could have been if they’d chosen differently.
That afternoon, Walter called an emergency meeting. His expression was grave. «Victoria’s legal team has found something,» he said. «Or rather, they claim to have found something. They’re alleging that you forged documents related to your business, specifically contracts with clients. They’re trying to paint you as dishonest, as someone capable of manipulating Dorothy.»
«That’s insane,» I said. «All my contracts are legitimate.»
«We know that. But they’re filing a motion to delay the will proceedings pending an investigation. It’s a stall tactic, but it could work.»
Grandma Dorothy’s hand slammed on the desk, startling us both. Despite her frailty, anger gave her strength. «Absolutely not. Walter, file an emergency motion to expedite. I want this settled before—» She didn’t finish the sentence. Before she died.
«Dorothy, you should rest,» Walter began.
«I’ll rest when this is done,» she snapped. «My granddaughter is being attacked by vultures masquerading as family. We end this now.»
Walter nodded and pulled out his phone, stepping away to make calls. Grandma Dorothy turned to me, her eyes fierce despite the exhaustion evident in her face. «Rachel, I need you to do something for me.»
«Anything.»
«I’m holding a press conference tomorrow. I’m going to tell the truth, all of it. About the stolen money, the abuse, everything. But I need you to be there with me. The world needs to see you, to hear from you directly.»
Terror gripped me. «I can’t. I’ll say something wrong, I’ll—»
«You’ll be perfect,» she said firmly, «because you’ll tell the truth. That’s all you need to do.»
That night, I barely slept again. I kept rehearsing what I might say, then abandoning it. How do you sum up twenty-two years of pain in a few minutes? How do you make strangers understand?
The press conference was scheduled for two in the afternoon at Grandma Dorothy’s downtown office. When Thomas drove us there, the media presence was overwhelming: cameras everywhere, reporters shouting questions, a crowd of onlookers documenting everything on their phones. Walter had prepared a statement, but when I looked at Grandma Dorothy—really looked at her—I saw how much this was costing her. She was dying, using her last reserves of strength to fight for me.
The conference room was packed. Cameras rolling, lights bright, the air thick with anticipation. Grandma Dorothy sat beside me at a long table, Walter on her other side. She looked small, but unbreakable. «Thank you for coming,» she began, her voice surprisingly strong. «I’m here to address the rumors and allegations surrounding my will and my granddaughter, Rachel.»
