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The final humiliation came when her parents came to visit from Denver. Emily had even reorganized my bedroom without asking my permission, moving my things to make more room for their suitcases. “What a beautiful house you two have,” her mother said as they toured my property.
“You can tell you’ve decorated it with great taste.”
“Our own style.”
In my house, with my furniture stored in the garage and my memories packed in boxes.
That night when they thought I was asleep, I heard Emily talking to her mother in the kitchen. “We’ve almost made her feel uncomfortable enough to leave. With a little more pressure, I’m sure she’ll decide to go live on her own.”
That’s when I understood that it had all been a plan from the beginning.
August 15th changed everything forever. That morning, the phone rang very early. It was Mr.
Morales, my brother Arthur’s lawyer in Houston. His voice was serious professional, but I could sense some restrained emotion. “Mrs.
Martha,” he said, “I’m sorry to inform you that your brother Arthur passed away last night from a heart attack, but I must also inform you that you are the sole heir to all his assets.”
My world came crashing down. Arthur and I had lost touch over the last 5 years because of something silly, a family misunderstanding that now seemed so insignificant. I never imagined he had left me as the heir to everything he owned.
In total, it’s $340,000, ma’am. Properties, bank accounts, and investments. Your brother was very successful with his import business.
The papers are ready. We just need you to come to Houston to sign the transfer documents.”
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