At my father’s funeral, my brothers stood by his coffin and laughed at the borrowed black dress I was wearing. “Dad left everything to us,” the oldest whispered. “You’ll leave here with nothing.” I laid one red rose on the coffin and answered, “That’s strange, because he called me three hours before he died.” When the funeral director locked the chapel doors, my brothers’ smiles disappeared. Behind them stood my father’s private attorney, two detectives, and the nurse they had paid to stay quiet.
The first thing my brothers did at our father’s funeral was mock my dress. The second was tell me I had already lost.
I stood beside the polished walnut coffin, clutching a single red rose while rain struck the chapel windows like fists. My black dress belonged to my neighbor, Mrs. Alvarez. It was one size too big and carried a faint lavender scent, but it was all I could afford after six months of unpaid leave spent caring for Dad.
My oldest brother, Grant, leaned in close enough for me to smell the expensive bourbon on his breath. “Dad left everything to us,” he whispered. “The company, the houses, the accounts. You’ll leave here with nothing.”
Beside him, Owen smirked. “Maybe the funeral home needs a receptionist.”
They expected me to cry.
I didn’t.
I placed the rose on Dad’s chest and said, “That’s strange, because he called me three hours before he died.”
Grant’s smile faltered.
Only briefly.
Then he gave a small laugh and straightened his silk tie. “He was delirious.”
“Was he?”
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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