“The rest of the estate is divided equally between Emma and Sheila.”
I felt a twinge of satisfaction at their disbelief. The tables had turned, and justice, it seemed, had been served in its own way.
As we left the office, my stepmother approached me, her earlier bravado gone. “Sheila, I—”
“Save it,” I interrupted, not unkindly.
“I’ll let you stay until you find somewhere else.
But this is my home now.”
Leaving them behind, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I had reclaimed not just the house but a part of myself that I thought had been lost forever. The house was a symbol of my endurance, my ability to rise above the past, and step into a future of my own making.
