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I smiled coldly.
“Family? What an interesting word. Ethan made it very clear that his real family includes you, Carol. I’m just the lady who raised him.”
“Enough. This is ridiculous. You’re acting like a spoiled child.”
His words echoed in the apartment like a gunshot. Carol looked at him reproachfully.
“Ethan, don’t talk to your mother like that.”
But the damage was done.
“There it is,” I said calmly. “The real Ethan, the one who throws a tantrum when things don’t go his way.”
I walked to my handbag and took out a folder.
“Since we’re being honest, let me show you something.”
I opened the folder on the coffee table. They were photographs of my properties.
Ethan moved closer to get a better look.
“I also have this apartment complex in the Polarmo district.”
Ashley gasped.
“And this shopping plaza downtown.”
Their faces reflected total disbelief. Carol stared at the photos as if they were alien documents.
“I also have investment accounts,” I continued, “and a few other minor properties.”
I closed the folder.
Ashley fainted. She literally slumped onto the sofa. Ethan rushed to help her while Carol fanned her with a magazine.
“$840,000?” Ethan murmured. “You had $840,000 and you let me spend my savings on medical emergencies last year?”
That question showed exactly who he was. Even in this moment of shock, he couldn’t see beyond his own self-interest.
“Ethan,” I said softly, “during that medical emergency, did you ever once ask how I was doing? Did you worry about my emotional health, or did you just want the money?”
Carol helped Ashley sit up. The young woman was pale and trembling.
“I don’t understand,” she babbled. “If you had so much money, why did you act like you were poor? Why did you let us pay for things if you could have?”
Her indignation was fascinating, as if I had stolen something from her.
“Ashley,” I replied, “I never acted poor. I simply lived on my pension and kept my assets private. You all assumed that because I was a retiree who adopted a child, I must be poor. That was your assumption, not my reality.”
Ethan ran his hands through his hair, processing the information.
“Mom, this changes everything. We could have done so many things together. We could have—”
“We could have what, Ethan?” I interrupted. “Could we have been a real family? Or could we have spent my money on things you wanted?”
The question hung in the air. Ethan couldn’t answer because we both knew the truth.
Carol cleared her throat.
“Stephanie, I understand your hurt, but now that we know the whole truth, we can start over as a united family.”
I looked at this woman who had orchestrated my public humiliation and now wanted to start over after discovering my fortune.
“Carol,” I said with a smile, “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”
I took another document out of my handbag.
“This is my new will. Ethan has been removed as a beneficiary of all my assets. In his place, I have created a foundation for single mothers who adopt abandoned children.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Ethan stared at me as if I had just shot him. Ashley began to sob. Carol maintained her composure, but her hands were trembling slightly.
“Mom,” Ethan whispered, “you can’t do this. I’m your son.”
I smiled sadly.
“No, Ethan. As you made very clear at your wedding, I am not your real mother. And if that’s the case, then you are not really my son.”
Ethan was paralyzed for several seconds, processing my words. Then he exploded.
“This is insane. You can’t disinherit me over one stupid comment.”
His voice had become high-pitched, desperate.
“I’m your son. I’ve loved you my whole life.”
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