The servants and the family doctor exchanged glances, their eyes filled with contempt.
"Listen to him, all those high-minded words. He's just bitter someone else got the money. Calling his own uncle a deviant—disgusting!"
"If you ask me, Mr. Dickerson saw right through him years ago. That's why he cut him out. Ungrateful wretch."
"Mr. Dickerson raised him for twenty years like his own son. And this is the thanks he gets? Slander from beyond the grave. Shameful."
"Get out! Money-grubbing backstabber. You're dirtying our floor just standing there!"
A maid brandished her broom, sweeping furiously at my feet until I was backed against the doorway.
The humiliation crashed over me like a wave. My eyes burned as I scanned the room, my voice breaking.
"I'm not doing this for the inheritance! I just want to understand why. Was he in some kind of trouble? Did I do something wrong? Were twenty years of being father and son all a lie?"
My voice cracked. "Even if the truth turns out to be exactly what you say—that this was his choice—I'll accept it. But I can't keep living like this, in the dark, completely powerless!"