My father had just been buried when the woman who abandoned us returned, insisting her new children should inherit everything he left behind. She tore my mourning clothes, grabbed my hair, and ordered me to hand over the house my father built with his life. But when she tried to force me to call her “Mom,” I pulled out my knife. That was the last time she laid a hand on me. The day after my dad died, my mother—gone for more than twenty years—walked in with the children she’d had with another man, ready to fight over his estate. “They’re my kids too. Whatever you have, they should have it as well.” Still in mourning, my eyes swollen from crying, I couldn’t stop a hollow laugh from slipping out. “He’s dead! What good is crying? Get up and count how much money that dead old man left behind!” I was collapsed on the funeral hall floor, my grief twisting into dizziness. My father was gone, and I had no one left in this world. And yet Vivian Gates—the woman who vanished when I was three—was yanking at my mourning clothes, trying to drag me upright. “No manners at all! It’s your first time meeting your brother and sister, and this is how you act? Crying like some useless thing!” I kept my head down, forcing down the fury burning through my chest. My father worked himself to death to raise me. I wouldn’t let anyone disturb his peace now. When I didn’t answer, Vivian grew even more irritated. She grabbed a fistful of my hair, hauled me to my feet, and shoved me toward a man and a woman. “This is Brandon Cooper and Kendra Cooper—your brother and sister.” “Your dad’s dead now. We need a man around here. Brandon needs to get familiar with the place. From today on, this will be his home.” “And stop pretending to cry. Let’s get to dividing the estate. Legally, I get half, and the other half gets split among the four of you.” “I can see this house was just renovated. I’ll decide—this house goes to Brandon. Don’t worry, he won’t throw you out. You can keep a room and visit during holidays.” Her voice grew more triumphant with every word. I lifted my head and looked at the pair before me—eyes roaming greedily over the house like wolves staring at fresh meat. Their gaze alone made me nauseous. “Let go,” I said—the first words I’d said to Vivian in more than twenty years. She froze, then smacked me on the back. “Who do you think you’re talking to?” I looked up at her and smiled. Pleased, she lifted her chin smugly. “That’s better. You’ve always needed a good beating to act right—” Before she finished, I pulled out my pocket knife and slashed her hand. “AHHHHH!” Vivian screamed, releasing my hair as blood splattered across the courtyard floor. Dad, look. No one will bully me again.
The night I should have spent keeping vigil over my father turned into a scene at the police station. I leaned back in my chair, watching Vivian like she was the biggest joke I’d ever seen. Maybe seeing the officers in uniform boosted her confidence. Her face, pale the whole way here, suddenly regained color. She thrust her poorly bandaged hand toward them and wailed: “What did I do in my past life to deserve this? My own daughter stabbed me!” The officer tapped the table, frowning at me. “What happened?” I hadn’t even spoken before Brandon Cooper rolled up his sleeves and barked, “Pay up! We’re not letting this go unless she compensates us!” Vivian’s injury was minor. As long as she agreed to drop the charges, we could settle this. I didn’t want to waste time—I just wanted to get back to my father’s vigil. So when the three of them huddled together and finally demanded $2,000, I didn’t hesitate. Right in front of the officers, I took out my phone and transferred the money. Once the payment went through, Vivian happily signed the waiver. Watching her grin, I asked, “Don’t you feel even a little sad?” She blinked. “Sad about what?” I didn’t bother replying. I turned and walked out. As I passed them, their whispers drifted toward me. “Mom, she’s using the newest iPhone. It’s over a thousand bucks. You just got money—buy me one.” “Mom, two thousand dollars! She agreed right away. Who knows how much her old man left her? We need to think of something.” I was almost out the door when I heard Vivian loudly ask the officer: “Do you handle inheritance disputes too?”
The day after we buried my dad according to custom, I thanked the relatives and neighbors of Maplewood Village who had come to help. When the last person left, the mansion went quiet. The silence crushed me so hard I almost wished I had gone with him. Vivian—my mother—had run off with an out-of-town butcher when I was two or three, abandoning my dad because he was “too poor.” From then on, my dad became both mother and father, working himself to the bone to raise me. When I entered elementary school and didn’t need constant care, he finally had time to start a small business. I never knew how large it had grown, only that life kept getting better. He built this mansion. He spoiled me with everything I pointed at. At school, I became the girl everyone envied—the rich kid with the perfect life. But no one saw the part of me that was hollow. The part that should’ve been my mother. She was never there for any milestone, any nightmare, any moment I needed her. Eventually, I learned how to be the kid without a mom. I sorted through my dad’s belongings day after day, crying until I collapsed, waking up, and crying again. Time blurred until I finally finished organizing everything he left behind—and discovered he had been far wealthier than I ever imagined. Around that time, I picked up a habit: sitting in the courtyard, staring at the security camera on the wall, letting my thoughts drift. One evening, while the sky blazed with a beautiful dusk, I sipped the osmanthus wine my dad had brewed. The weather was perfect. I hadn’t even locked the front door. That was when Vivian walked in with Brandon and Kendra, standing at the entrance like they owned the place. “It’s been days. You should’ve gone through your old man’s things by now,” she said. “I brought Brandon and Kendra. We need to divide your dad’s estate.”
I smiled and gestured for them to sit. Then I went inside for paper and pens. “What are your ideas? Write them down. Let’s discuss.” Vivian looked thrilled by how cooperative I was. “I thought I’d have to talk sense into you before you handed over the money,” she said. “How much did your dad leave? Show me the inventory.” I passed her the list. Their eyes lit up the second they saw the numbers. Vivian straightened, suddenly acting like the head of the household. “Alright. I’ll decide how to split everything.” She clearly had been planning this for years. She scribbled out a division plan with messy handwriting but undeniable excitement. When she finished, she handed it to me with a dramatic flick of her wrist. “Avery, we’ll follow this plan. Tomorrow, we’ll do the transfers and change the ownership of the house.” I looked at her evenly. “My name is Avery Gates. Not ‘Avery.’” She forced a smile. “We always called you Avery when you were little.” I returned the smile. “Funny. When I was little, I also had a mom.” Kendra, impatient, snatched the paper from my hand. Her expression twisted. She slammed the sheet on the table. “Mom, you preach fairness, but Brandon gets the mansion and a few million, and I only get a hundred grand?” I nodded helpfully. “Right? I get two hundred thousand, but you’re the beloved daughter. How’s a hundred thousand fair to you?” Kendra lost it. She threw herself on the ground, kicking and screaming. Brandon, afraid Vivian might redistribute his share, yanked her up by the hair and slapped her. “Shut up! Mom’s money, mom’s rules!” Kendra froze, stunned he’d hit her—then shrieked and attacked him. They rolled on the ground like street fighters, while Vivian frantically tried to separate them. I quietly scooted my chair back, pulled out a bag of sunflower seeds, and settled in to watch. Their screams echoed around the courtyard like it was free entertainment. Vivian ended up catching a few hits herself. Furious, she slapped both of them across the face. Her bandaged hand—still healing from where I’d cut her earlier—began bleeding again. Brandon’s eye was swelling; Kendra’s lip was split. I grinned. “What’s going on? You’re family. Why fight over a little money?” Vivian glared at them, then forced a smile at me. “Avery, you and Kendra are both my daughters. I can’t favor one too much. How about we take fifty thousand from your share and give it to her? Then you’ll both get one-fifty. Fair?” I turned to Kendra. “That okay with you?” She shot Brandon a murderous look but stayed silent. Still smiling, I said, “If everyone agrees, then sign.” I watched all three of them sign the agreement. Satisfied, I folded it neatly and slid it into my pocket. “Great. See you here tomorrow at ten. We’ll finish the paperwork then.” The next day, when Vivian, Brandon, and Kendra arrived, they stopped short at the sight before them. The courtyard was packed—neighbors, relatives, and practically everyone from Maplewood Village. People were chatting, cracki
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “316731”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #校园School
Leave a Reply