“We’ve decided to cut you out of the inheritance. You’ve never deserved it.”
My father’s voice rang across the private dining room, and for a moment, everything stopped. The crystal chandelier above seemed to freeze mid-sparkle. The soft classical music playing in the background faded into nothing.
Every face at that long, elegant table turned toward me with expressions ranging from smug satisfaction to barely concealed glee. I sat there, fork halfway to my mouth, staring at the man who raised me.
Around us, my entire extended family had gathered. Aunts, uncles, cousins, even my grandmother. The restaurant my parents had chosen was one of those places where you needed a reservation months in advance, where the waiters wore white gloves and the menu had no prices. They had spared no expense for this moment.
“Did you hear me, Tara?”
My father stood at the head of the table, his face flushed with wine and something darker. Triumph, maybe.
“You’re out. Completely out.”
My mother sat beside him, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin, trying to hide her smile. My younger brother, Kevin, lounged in his chair with a smirk that made my stomach turn. My sister Paige wouldn’t even look at me, but I could see her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.
“That’s what happens when you turn your back on family,” my aunt Carol chimed in, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “We all saw it coming.”
“Absolutely,” Uncle Gerald added, raising his wineglass. “To family loyalty.”
The table erupted in agreement. Glasses clinked. People laughed. My cousin Bethany actually clapped.
I set my fork down carefully, my hands steady despite the rage building in my chest. Twenty-nine years of memories flashed through my mind in seconds. Every birthday where Kevin got the bigger present. Every Christmas where Paige got the better gifts. Every family dinner where my accomplishments were brushed aside while my siblings were praised for the smallest things.
But this—this was different.
My father had called me three days earlier, his voice warm and inviting for the first time in months.
“We’re having a family dinner on Saturday. Very important. Everyone will be there. We’d really like you to come, Tara. It’s been too long.”
I should have known better. I should have heard the trap in those words, but some stupid, hopeful part of me thought maybe, just maybe, they finally wanted to make things right.
Instead, they wanted an audience for my humiliation.
I looked around the table, taking in every face. My grandmother, who used to sneak me cookies when I was little, wouldn’t meet my eyes. My cousin Jeffrey, whom I helped through college by tutoring him every weekend for two years, stared at his plate. Even my uncle Thomas, who always said I was his favorite niece, raised his glass along with everyone else.
“Nothing to say, Tara?” my mother asked, her voice saccharine sweet. “No tears, no begging?”
I picked up my wineglass, a very expensive Bordeaux that my father had insisted on ordering for everyone. I took a slow sip, letting the silence stretch.
Then I smiled.
“Congratulations,” I said softly, setting the glass down. “I hope it was worth it.”
I stood, smoothed my dress, and picked up my purse.
The table had gone quiet again, but this time the silence was confused. They had expected tears, maybe shouting. Definitely some kind of scene that would give them more to laugh about later.
“Wait, that’s it?” Kevin called out as I turned toward the door. “You’re just leaving?”
I paused, looking back over my shoulder. My father’s face had gone from triumphant to uncertain. My mother’s smile had faltered.
“What else would you like me to do?” I asked, my voice pleasant, almost curious. “You’ve made your decision. I accept it.”
“But—” Paige started.
But I was already walking away.
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