I kept my face blank. I had learned that skill in the army. Never let anyone see your reaction. But Megan wasn’t about to let it go. She leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms, and smirked at me.
“A cabin fits you perfectly, you stinking woman.”
She didn’t whisper. She wanted everyone to hear.
Some people gasped. My mom looked down at the table, refusing to make eye contact. Robert shifted uncomfortably, but kept reading like pretending it didn’t happen would make it go away.
I clenched my jaw. It wasn’t the insult that got me. I’d been called worse in Afghanistan by people who wanted me dead. It was the fact that my own sister, sitting across from me in our father’s house, thought it was okay to spit on me like that in front of everyone.
Megan laughed under her breath, clearly enjoying herself.
“Come on, Hannah. You live out of a duffel bag most of the year anyway. That shack is perfect for you. Rustic, simple, nothing fancy. No one will even notice if you disappear up there.”
I looked at my mom. She didn’t say a word. No defense, no pushback, just silence like she was scared to upset Megan. That silence cut deeper than the insult.
Robert closed the folder and cleared his throat.
“That concludes the reading of the will. Your father’s wishes are legally binding.”
Megan shot her hand in the air like she had just won bingo.
“Great. I’ll start looking at management options for the Miami property this week. I know some people at Summit Realty who can help.”
She glanced at me and smirked again.
“Hope you like chopping firewood. Alone.”
I wanted to tell her where to shove her real estate contacts, but instead I grabbed my jacket and stood up. Years in the army had taught me when to fight and when to walk away. Right then, walking away was the smarter move.
