“I didn’t tell anyone I was here. Clara said the inheritance was private. So how did you know?”
Her face shifted, just slightly. The tears were still there, but something behind them hardened.
“I called Clara’s office,”
she said.
“I told them I was your sister, that I needed to find you. They gave me the address.”
That was a lie. Clara would never have given out my location, but I did not say that. I just stepped back and let Diane inside. She walked through the foyer slowly, her eyes taking in everything—the chandelier, the paintings, the marble floors. She ran her fingers along the banister.
“This place is incredible,”
she said.
“I can’t believe Uncle Samuel had all this.”
“You never met him,”
I said.
“Neither did you.”
“Not really.”
She turned to me, her expression careful.
“But family is family, right? And he clearly wanted to take care of us.”
“He left it to me, Diane. Not us.”
Her smile faltered.
“Of course. I didn’t mean…”
She laughed lightly, like I had misunderstood her.
“I’m just saying it’s amazing that you have this now after everything with Richard. It’s like fate, you know?”
I did not answer. I walked into the living room and she followed.
“So what are you going to do with it?”
she asked, sitting down on the sofa like she lived there.
“Are you going to sell? You could get so much money for this place. You could travel. Start over somewhere new.”
“I can’t sell. Not for six months.”
“Why not?”
I hesitated. I had not told anyone about the conditions of the will. But Diane was my sister, and part of me—the part that still remembered us as children, playing in the backyard, sharing secrets—wanted to trust her.
“It’s part of the inheritance terms,”
I said.
“I have to live here for six months alone. If I break the conditions, I lose everything.”
Diane’s eyes widened.
“That’s insane. Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know.”
She leaned forward, her voice dropping.
“Sophia, you have to be careful. People are going to come after this. Lawyers, distant relatives, people claiming Samuel owed them money. You need to protect yourself.”
“I have Clara.”
“Clara’s just a lawyer. She doesn’t care about you. Not like I do.”
Diane reached out and took my hand. Her skin was warm, her grip tight.
“You need family right now. Let me help you.”
“Help me how?”
“I don’t know. Whatever you need. I can stay here with you. Keep you company. Make sure you’re safe.”
There it was. The ask. The reason she was there.
“I have to live here alone,”
I said.
“That’s the condition.”
Diane’s face tightened.
“That’s ridiculous. You shouldn’t have to be alone right now. You’ve been through so much.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Sophia—”
