The color drained from their faces at the same time.
Ivy froze, her fork suspended midair.
The reality was sinking in.
The mansion she had mentally claimed — the one she flaunted online — wasn’t guaranteed.
Not anymore.
My father looked stunned.
Confused.
Angry.
“You went behind my back?” he asked.
“I protected what Mom built,” I replied.
The smirk was gone.
The Fallout
Now my father barely looks at me.
He says I’ve robbed Ivy of her security.
As if she’s the only one entitled to protection.
There’s tension between them too. I can see it in the way she avoids eye contact when the topic comes up. In the way he defends her more aggressively than before.
Cracks have formed in the picture-perfect marriage he tried to display.
He calls me selfish.
Jealous.
Ungrateful.
But I keep asking myself one question:
Was it selfish to stand up for what was legally mine?
Or was it selfish to expect me to step aside quietly while my mother’s legacy was handed away?
