When Charlotte’s mother dies, her sister Barbara wastes no time trying to cut her out of the inheritance.
Armed with an old document, Barbara smugly tries to throw a spanner in the works.
But when the truth comes out, it’s Barbara who faces the ultimate betrayal, and by the time she realizes her mistake, it’s far too late.
I always thought family was unbreakable.
That no matter what, blood was blood, and at the end of the day, we would always have each other’s backs. That’s how family works, right?
But after my mother passed away, my sister Barbara came waltzing in and made me question everything I thought I knew.
And by the time the truth finally came out?
Barbara was the one begging for forgiveness.
My mother raised two daughters: myself, Charlotte, and my older sister, Barbara.
Naturally, Barbara was always the golden child. She was the one who got all the attention.
Barbara craved a roast chicken?
My mother had one cooking away the moment her words left her lips. Barbara needed dry cleaning fetched? My mother would jump into her car and fetch it.
Barbara was also beautiful.
Stunningly beautiful and never failed to make heads turn. She was blonde with piercing blue eyes, just like my mother.
Meanwhile, I was the odd one out. I had dark hair, dark eyes, and to be honest, I never really looked like either of them.
But I never questioned it.
Why would I? I loved my mother.
No, I adored my mother with everything I had. She was my entire world.
So when she got sick, I was the one who put my life on hold to take care of her.
I didn’t complain once. Not when bruises bloomed on my arms as she held onto me tightly when I took her to the bathroom. Not when she got frustrated and threw her food across the room.
Not even when she would break down and cry for hours.
Barbara, on the other hand?
She was too busy chasing her dreams of becoming an actress.
“I can’t take care of Mom, Charlotte. I have auditions. I have producers to meet.
I have to stay relevant and seen at events. You understand, right? Right, Lottie?”
And I did.
Because that’s what I always did.
I was always understanding, while Barbara lived her life however she pleased. I tried not to focus on her and how I could have done with the help.
Instead, I let Barbara come in and out of the house, wearing her new clothes and showing off photos of her with actors and actresses that she had met.
“This is a glamorous life, Mom,” she said one day when Mom was too weak to get out of bed to eat her soup. “And you should really clean up your look, Lottie.
You need to get noticed. Your posture is horrible because you sit hunched in front of that computer.”
“It’s my job, Barbara,” I said simply.
Life continued in that way for months. And finally, Mom passed away.
But that was when Barbara came back.
And she wasn’t grieving. Not at all. She was hungry, starving even.
For our mother’s money.
After the funeral, we met with Alistair, my mother’s lawyer.
Barbara walked in like she owned the place, dressed in black but wearing diamond earrings I had never seen before.
I should have known something was off when she sat down with a smug smile.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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