I felt that someone had believed me before I had even learned how to believe myself.
That evening, I received a call from Michaela.
I watched her name appear on the screen.
Fred was sitting beside me.
“Don’t answer if you don’t want to,” he said.
I considered letting it go to voicemail.
But I wanted to hear what she would say now that I knew about the trust.
I answered and put the call on speaker.
“Hello?”
“Christy!”
Her voice sounded unusually cheerful.
Too cheerful.
“Where have you been? I’ve called you all day.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Mom is worried sick about you.”
I looked at Fred.
“Is she?”
“Yes. She thinks you’re still upset about the baby shower.”
“I’m not upset about the baby shower, Michaela.”
There was a brief silence.
“Then what is this about?”
I leaned back.
“Tell me something. Who is Gregory Ashby?”
Nothing.
Not a word.
I could hear faint background noise on her end, perhaps a television.
Then she laughed.
It was a nervous little laugh.
“Why are you asking about him?”
“Because he has been trying to contact me.”
Another silence.
“Well, he’s some old lawyer. I think Grandma used him for paperwork. Why?”
“Apparently, he has been trying to contact me since August.”
Michaela’s breathing changed.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“That’s strange.”
“Is it?”
“Maybe he has the wrong information.”
“He has the right information. He says Grandma left me a trust.”
I heard something hit a surface on the other end.
Then Michaela spoke very quickly.
“Christy, listen. There are things you don’t understand.”
“Then explain them.”
“Mom was handling everything.”
“Handling what?”
“The estate.”
“What estate?”
“Grandma’s estate.”
I let the silence continue.
Finally, she said, “Look, you know Mom has had a difficult time since Grandma died. She was trying to keep everything together. You weren’t around much.”
I almost laughed.
I had attended every family meeting I had been invited to.
I had helped with medical appointments.
I had paid several of Grandma’s bills during her final months.
But somehow, I had become the absent granddaughter.
“Did you receive money from the trust?” I asked.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Because I saw the records.”
Her voice changed immediately.
“What records?”
“The payments to your company.”
“Those were legitimate.”
“Did your company actually perform the work?”
“Of course.”
“Then why does the trust attorney say the documentation is incomplete?”
She didn’t answer.
I continued.
“And why did Mom submit a document saying I had voluntarily surrendered my rights?”
Silence.
Then Michaela whispered something.
I leaned closer.
“What was that?”
“You’re making a huge mistake.”
“How?”
“You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Then help me understand.”
She suddenly raised her voice.
“You always do this! You always think everyone is against you!”
I looked at Fred.
He was recording the conversation using his phone.
I kept my voice calm.
“Michaela, I want to ask you one more thing.”
“What?”
“Why did you take my emergency injectors?”
There was a pause.
Then she said something I wasn’t expecting.
“I didn’t.”
I waited.
“Christy, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The messages say you had them.”
“Messages?”
“Yes.”
I heard her breathing become rapid.
Then she said:
“Who showed you those messages?”
I didn’t answer.
She understood.
“Fred.”
I remained silent.
“That stupid iPad,” she muttered.
The words came out so quietly that I almost missed them.
But I heard them.
And so did Fred.
I felt a chill move down my arms.
“Michaela, did you just say something about the iPad?”
“No.”
“I heard you.”
“You’re twisting everything.”
“Where are my injectors?”
“I don’t have them.”
“Where did you put them?”
She started crying.
Not the quiet kind of crying.
The loud, angry kind that sounded more like frustration than sadness.
“You don’t understand what Mom has been dealing with! You have no idea what she has sacrificed for this family!”
I closed my eyes.
“Then tell me.”
“She was going to lose everything!”
“What does that mean?”
“She needed the money!”
“How much?”
“Christy, please.”
“How much did she need?”
Michaela took a shaky breath.
Then she said:
“Terrence borrowed money from the wrong people.”
I sat up.
“What?”
“His business was failing. He had debts. Mom tried to help him.”
“With Grandma’s money?”
“She was going to put it back!”
I looked at Fred.
He was no longer recording casually.
He was listening with complete concentration.
“How much does Terrence owe?”
Michaela began crying harder.
“Almost four hundred thousand dollars.”
I felt sick.
Four hundred thousand dollars.
That was why they needed the trust.
That was why Friday mattered.
That was why my signature had appeared on a document I had never signed.
“Did Mom know about the debts before Grandma died?”
Michaela didn’t answer.
“Michaela?”
“Yes.”
I slowly lowered my phone.
Then I asked the question that made everything go quiet.
“Was Grandma’s money supposed to pay Terrence’s creditors?”
My sister began sobbing.
“Please don’t make this worse.”
I felt my heart beating in my throat.
“Did you know about the tart?”
She stopped crying.
For several seconds, there was absolute silence.
Then she whispered:
“Christy, I never wanted you to die.”
I couldn’t breathe.
Fred immediately reached for my hand.
I stared at the phone.
“What did you just say?”
Michaela started speaking quickly.
“I didn’t know it would happen. Mom said it was just to make you sick enough that you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. She said you would end up in the hospital and everyone would understand that you were too unstable to handle the estate.”
My stomach dropped.
I felt Fred’s hand tighten around mine.
“Are you telling me Mom wanted me hospitalized?”
“I don’t know what she wanted!”
“Did she know the tart contained walnuts?”
Michaela started crying again.
“I didn’t think you would actually eat it!”
I looked at Fred.
He had gone completely pale.
I took a deep breath.
“Michaela, where are my emergency injectors?”
She didn’t answer.
“Where are they?”
“I gave them to Mom.”
My eyes closed.
“Where is Mom?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where did you give them to her?”
“At her house.”
I looked at Fred.
He was already reaching for his keys.
Then Michaela said something that stopped us both.
“Christy, you need to listen to me.”
“What?”
“Mom knows you went to Gregory’s office.”
I felt my blood run cold.
“How?”
“Because she called him yesterday.”
I stared at the phone.
“Why would she call him?”
“She wanted to know whether the Friday meeting was still happening.”
“And what did he say?”
Michaela’s voice dropped.
“He told her you were coming.”
I slowly looked toward Fred.
Neither of us spoke.
Then Michaela whispered:
“Christy, please don’t go on Friday.”
“Why?”
“Because Mom isn’t planning to give you the money.”
I tightened my grip on the phone.
“What is she planning?”
My sister began to cry again.
And then she said the words that changed everything.
“She’s bringing the original document.”
“What document?”
“The one Grandma signed before she died.”
I frowned.
“Grandma signed something?”
“Yes.”
“What was it?”
Michaela hesitated.
Then she whispered:
“It wasn’t a document giving you the inheritance, Christy.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Then what was it?”
My sister took a shaky breath.
“Grandma had changed everything three weeks before she died.”
I sat completely still.
“What do you mean?”
“She changed the trust. She changed the property arrangements. She changed who was supposed to control the money.”
I looked at Fred.
He mouthed the words, What is she saying?
I didn’t know.
Then Michaela continued.
“Mom found out about it after Grandma passed away. That’s why she was so desperate.”
“Why?”
“Because Grandma didn’t just leave you the money.”
I could barely speak.
“Then what else did she leave me?”
Michaela lowered her voice.
“She left you something that Mom has been trying to get back for almost two years.”
“What?”
For several seconds, I heard nothing but her breathing.
Then she said:
“Grandma left you the original deed to Willow Creek.”
I frowned.
“The deed?”
“Yes.”
“Why would that matter?”
Michaela began crying again.
“Because the cottage isn’t worth two million dollars, Christy.”
I stared at the wall.
“What are you talking about?”
She whispered:
“There’s something underneath the property. Something Grandma never told us about.”
My mouth went dry.
“What?”
“An underground water reserve and mineral rights. A development company has been trying to purchase the entire area for years.”
I felt my pulse quicken.
“How much is it worth?”
Michaela didn’t answer immediately.
Then she said:
“Mom told me the last offer was nearly twelve million dollars.”
The room seemed to go silent.
Twelve million.
I looked at Fred.
He was staring at me with disbelief.
But before I could ask another question, Michaela spoke again.
“Christy, there’s something else. And this is the part Mom doesn’t know I found out.”
“What?”
“I found Grandma’s old notebook in the storage room.”
“What notebook?”
“The one she kept during the last six months of her life.”
