My daughter-in-law threw my stuff out of the house after learning she inherited it, but karma got her the same day
The last thing I expected when I arrived home was to find my entire life strewn across the lawn like some kind of unholy estate sale.
The wind picked up, scattering the memories I had so carefully packed into boxes and brought down from the attic.
Mom’s old recipes, her china, the worn quilt Dad napped under, and all her books—all of it was on display for all to see, unprotected, as if it meant nothing. I staggered out of my car, my heart pounding.
“In God’s name, what the…” I whispered, my voice swallowed by the wind.
“Oh, good. You’re finally back. I was tired of waiting.”
There, perched on my patio furniture, in her designer sunglasses and overly bright lipstick, was Jessica. My stepdaughter didn’t even look up from her phone. She took a leisurely sip of coffee, her lips curling into a barely suppressed smirk.
“Jessica… What is all this about?” My eyes scanned the chaos, disbelief tightening in my chest. “What are you doing?”
She looked up, lowering her sunglasses just enough so I could read the disdain in her gaze. She made a dismissive gesture with her manicured hand.
“I’m doing what’s necessary. After all, this is my home now.”
A cold knot tightened in my stomach. “Your house? What are you talking about?”
“Looks like you should have been at the reading of the will.” Jessica held up a crisp piece of paper, and my father’s signature was clearly visible at the bottom. “I guess your dad knew who deserved it most, huh?”
I swayed, gripping the door for support. “This is impossible. Dad doesn’t…”
