Chapter 3 - The Storm BreaksThe next morning, the siblings arrived at the house like vultures sensing a kill. They were accompanied by a lawyer—a man in a sharp suit who didn't even look at me when he entered the room.
"Althea," Mark’s brother, David, said, his voice dripping with condescension. "We’re here to inventory the property. And we need that pillow you stole."
"I didn't steal it," I said, standing in the doorway of the study. "Bill gave it to me."
"Bill was delusional at the end," the lawyer interjected, adjusting his glasses. "Any item removed from the premises must be returned to the estate."
"It's not part of the estate," I replied, my voice steadying. I had spent twelve years being the quiet, invisible nurse. I was done being invisible. "It’s a personal gift, and it has been claimed."
Mark stepped forward, his face flushed with embarrassment and rage. "Althea, stop this. You’re making a fool of yourself. Just give them the damn cushion."
"No," I said. "And you should know, Mark—this isn't just about a cushion. Your father knew exactly who you were. He knew you didn't love him. He knew you were just waiting for him to die."
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The room went deathly silent. David lunged forward, but I held the box up. "If you take one more step toward me, I’ll call the police. I have documentation here that proves you’ve been siphoning off his disability checks for years. I have the receipts, Mark. I have the bank records I kept while you were out living your 'busy life'."
The look on Mark's face was a mixture of shock and pure, unadulterated terror. He knew I was telling the truth.
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