Suddenly, everything connected.
Why Linda hated the trust.
Why she’d treated my inheritance as if I’d stolen something from her.
Why she seemed angry whenever Grandpa gave me anything.
But I still didn’t understand one thing.
“Why did you spend my trust?”
Linda’s face twisted.
“Because your mother destroyed my life.”
Grandpa stood.
“Enough.”
“No!” Linda shouted. “She deserves the truth.”
She stared directly at me.
“I was twenty-one. I had plans. Then Caroline died, and suddenly there was a newborn baby everybody expected me to love because it was her dying wish.”
My chest tightened.
“I did love you,” she said, tears pouring down her face. “At first.”
At first.
Two words capable of destroying an entire childhood.
“But every time Dad looked at you,” she continued, “he saw Caroline. Every time Mom held you, she cried. Everything became about the daughter they lost and the baby she left behind.”
