Chapter 2

The next day, I drove to the old rental property on the east side of the avenue. The house was a wreck, with peeling paint and a sagging porch. I only kept it because the rent from a long-term tenant barely covered the taxes. I needed the original deed from the lockbox in the basement. The lawyers had requested a certified copy.

As I pulled up, I saw Kevin' s car already parked at the curb. A beat-up sedan covered in Uber and DoorDash stickers.

They were waiting for me on the porch. Kevin, Tiffany, and my mother. An ambush.

"Well, well, look who' s here," Kevin said, blocking the steps. "Come to see what a real asset looks like?"

Tiffany, scrolling on her phone, didn' t even look up. "She probably wants to ask for a loan already. The answer is no, by the way. We have to be smart with our money."

My mother stood with her arms crossed, her face a mask of contempt. "I knew you' d come crawling. You always do. Your father was the same way, always looking for a handout."

I held up my keys. "This is my property, Kevin. I need to get something from the basement."

He laughed. "Your property? This dump? Mom only put it in your name to hide it during her divorce. It was always meant for me. It' s family money."

"The deed is in my name, Kevin. The law is very clear on that."

Brenda stepped forward, her eyes narrowed. "Don' t you talk about the law. You think you' re so smart with your college degree. Look where it got you. Your brother is the one with the multi-million dollar deal. You have nothing."

She jabbed a finger toward me.

"If you want money so bad, do what I told you. Call up that lawyer you dated in high school. What was his name? David? I' m sure he' d throw you a few thousand to feel you up again. You were always good for that, at least."

The words hung in the air, ugly and sharp. For a second, the old anger flared inside me. The urge to scream, to show them the letter, to wipe the smug looks off their faces.

But I saw Chloe' s text in my mind. This is gonna be hilarious.

I pushed the anger down, burying it deep. I smiled a small, tired smile.

"I just need the deed, Mom. For my records."

Kevin finally moved aside, rolling his eyes. "Whatever. Go get your useless paper. Just don' t get the place dirty. It' s about to be a historical landmark as the house that made the Miller family rich."

I walked past them, the smell of Tiffany' s cheap perfume filling the air. As I unlocked the door, I heard my mother' s stage whisper.

"See? Pathetic. Always so responsible. Always settling for scraps."

I went inside, the sound of their laughter following me into the dusty dark. I found the lockbox, my hands steady as I retrieved the deed. The paper felt heavy in my hand, heavy with the weight of my future.

Their future, too. They just didn' t know it yet.