With shaking hands, I opened it and read: “If you’re reading this, it means the lawyer followed my instructions. The will they read was only a placeholder. The official one, signed and notarized, leaves everything to you. I trust you to do what’s right with it, even if that means sharing. You were the one who never left my side.”
My hands shook as I folded the note back up. The next morning, I went straight to the lawyer’s office. His eyes widened when I placed the note on his desk. After a pause, he unlocked a file drawer, pulled out a sealed envelope, and slid it across to me.
It was the real will. And it had only one name on it—mine. Grandpa had left everything in my name alone—his small house, his vintage car, and his savings. Along with them came his note, reminding me that it was up to me whether to share with my sister or not.
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