“Your inheritance is a family responsibility,” she said, her smile returning like a mask. “We must protect it together. Your grandfather was always too cautious with his trusts.”
She picked up her glass of sparkling water and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with the roses.
I stayed there for a long time, watching the water drip from a loose leaf onto the marble counter.
When I finally went upstairs to my bedroom, the house was completely silent.
I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, trying to connect my father’s boasting with the cold weight of my grandfather’s warning.
My pinky finger felt heavy where the gold ring sat.
The silence in the room was absolute, broken only by the hum of the air conditioning.
I woke at seven the next morning to the buzzing of my phone on the nightstand.
A text message from my younger sister, Lily, sat on the screen.
Are we still getting the black luxury sedan next week?
I sat up and looked at my vanity table across the room.
