I removed her hand calmly.
“I am an officer of the court, Mother. I cannot ignore a crime because I’m related to the person who committed it.”
“But we’ll lose everything!” she sobbed.
“You lost everything when you decided money mattered more than your daughter.”
I turned to my father, who sat with his head in his hands.
“You said I didn’t deserve a cent,” I told him. “You were right. Nobody deserves an inheritance. But Nana Rose gave it to me because she trusted me. Today, I proved she was right.”
I walked toward the exit.
“You’re cold!” my father shouted. “You have ice in your veins!”
I stopped at the doors and looked back.
“No, Dad. That’s discipline. You just never cared enough to notice it.”
Six months later, the ribbon-cutting ceremony was simple, exactly how Nana Rose would have wanted it.
