“Your father was thorough,” Benjamin said, flipping through the papers. “He left nothing to chance.”
“He knew she’d try something like this,” I replied, glancing at the pages. “He wanted to make sure she couldn’t touch what wasn’t hers.”
“The trust is locked tightly,” he assured me. “She can’t contest it without exposing her own actions.”
I nodded, feeling the weight of gratitude for my father’s foresight. He had always been a man of quiet strength, and now his quietness was speaking volumes.
As Benjamin left, I took a moment to reflect on everything that had led up to this point. Eleanor might have tried to tear our family’s history apart, but my father’s legacy was stronger than any of her schemes.
By the time I returned home, a new message from Eleanor awaited. This one was less confident, almost pleading.
