My stomach twisted as all eyes locked onto me.
“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.
Mrs. Patterson’s daughter, a woman I had seen only a handful of times over the years, stepped forward, her face twisted with rage.
“You stole from her!” she accused.
I froze. “What?”
One of the officers cleared his throat. “We received a complaint from Mrs. Patterson’s family regarding her will.”
“Her will?” My heart pounded.
Her son—a man who had barely spoken to his mother in years—waved a document in my face. “Everything. She left you everything.”
My breath caught. No. That couldn’t be right.
“That’s impossible,” I whispered, shaking my head.
The officer took the document and skimmed it. “Mrs. Patterson’s estate, including this house, her savings, and other assets, were legally transferred to you upon her passing.”
Gasps filled the room.
Her family erupted, shouting over each other:
“She was manipulated!”
“She was too old to think clearly!”
“She would NEVER choose a stranger over her own children!”
But the truth was, they were strangers.
I had been the one sitting by her hospital bed. I had been the one who held her hand through long nights of pain. I had been the one who loved her when no one else did.
“This must be a mistake,” I finally said.
But then the officer looked up, his expression unreadable. “Actually… there’s something else.”
Silence fell over the room.
“Mrs. Patterson left behind a letter. Addressed to you.”
He handed me the envelope, her familiar handwriting staring back at me. My fingers trembled as I opened it.
“My dearest,” it began.
“I know this will bring you trouble, but I also know you are the only one who ever truly cared for me. My family sees me as a bank, not a mother. You gave me something money could never buy—love. And so, my final gift is to ensure you never have to struggle again, just as you made sure I never felt alone.”
Tears blurred my vision.
Her family stood in stunned silence, the weight of her words cutting deeper than any argument ever could.
I folded the letter, holding it close. “She made her choice,” I said softly.
And for the first time, I knew—I had truly meant something to her.