"And what do you expect me to do?" Dad snapped. "Let her inherit the company? She can barely walk, for God’s sake. If she sets foot in that boardroom, the shareholders will tear her apart."
There was a pause and then he added, "The only reason she’s getting anything at all is because she’s my daughter. Otherwise, she’d get nothing. Now stop arguing with me. And don’t forget to act normal when she comes back. You almost slipped up with that cake last time."
I backed away, my hands shaking as I held the milk tighter. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
There it was. The truth, laid out so clearly it hurt. I was never really their daughter. Not in the way it mattered. I was just a burden they had to deal with, an afterthought they could pay off with a measly 500 dollars a month.
I stood there, listening to their voices fade into the house and for the first time, I realized something: I didn’t belong here. I never did.
The lawyer pulled out a draft and Dad grabbed it like he couldn’t wait another second. He snapped a quick picture and sent it to Scott, along with a voice message, “My boy, everything’s sorted. You handled the scholarship issue perfectly, exactly what I expected from you.