My entire family smirked when Grandma’s will handed my cousins penthouses, trust funds, and millions in cash, while all I got was an airline ticket to Vienna. But the instant I settled into that first-class seat and a flight attendant quietly slid a sealed envelope into my hands, I understood their amusement had been dangerously premature.
My name is Wren Calloway. I’m twenty-four years old, and for as long as I can remember, I was the most convenient person in my family to overlook.
The reliable one.
The steady one.
The one who showed up early and never demanded recognition.
So when we filed into that dim, wood-paneled law office to hear my grandmother’s estate read aloud, I already knew the script everyone was expecting. Dominic would be rewarded simply for existing. Tessa would collect even more wealth despite spending her entire adult life burning through what she already had. My parents would sit there wearing the composed satisfaction of people who believed the universe had finally confirmed their rankings.
For a while, that was precisely what unfolded.
Dominic received three million dollars.
Tessa was given a lakefront villa in Como and another million in liquid assets.
Then came additional properties, brokerage accounts, and figures large enough to reshape a person’s life between lunch and dinner.
Finally, the attorney looked at me.
The room went quiet – not from respect, but because everyone wanted a front-row seat to my embarrassment.
“And to my granddaughter Wren,” she read, “I leave this envelope, with the instruction that she travel to Austria without delay.”
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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