Madison’s face went pale. “You told him?” she hissed at me.
“I was under anesthesia,” I said. “You told the nurse I wasn’t your problem. You posted brunch photos while they were opening my chest.”
Robert’s voice hardened. “We didn’t rush down because hospitals exaggerate. And we used that money to invest in Maddie’s future. You chose to ‘find yourself’ instead of joining the business.”
Peter spoke at last. “You didn’t invest,” he said. “You drained your kid’s account and lied.”
Blake laid out the photocopies from the trust: my original agreement, the transfer forms, the bank statements. “Legally, the funds belonged to Claire,” he said. “Mr. Reynolds considered that sufficient reason to revise his estate.”
My mother’s expression iced over. “So the little martyr gets everything.”
I swallowed. “Grandpa didn’t cut you out because of me,” I said. “He did it because you left your daughter alone in a hospital bed.”
They argued with Blake, threatening lawsuits he calmly dismantled. When it became clear they had no case, Madison tried one last time.
“You’re really going to keep it all?” she demanded. “Dad’s business is struggling. Without that inheritance—”
“You’ll have to figure it out,” I said. “I’ll cover Grandpa’s funeral costs and any leftover medical bills. The rest is for my education and a place to live. That’s what he asked.”
