Chapter 4
I kept my eyes glued to my phone screen.
The faded photo of the will was like a whirlpool, ready to swallow up the twenty years of peace I had built for myself.
There was my grandma's signature.
It was bold and familiar, carrying that unique spirit I always remembered from her.
It didn't seem forged.
But the content was so ridiculous, it felt like some kind of joke.
All of it was mine?
Serena Harper's?
How could my grandpa, someone so old-school, ever pull something like this?
He always put his eldest son and grandson above everyone else.
He never had any respect for my dad, always calling him a bookworm.
Besides, in grandpa's eyes, being a granddaughter meant I was never truly part of the family.
This had to be a trap.
A final scheme, carefully crafted by Richard, who had run out of options.
They had it all figured out.
They knew we were living comfortably abroad.
They were sure we had the money to clean up their mess.
And they counted on the words: my grandma's will to make me go soft and waver.
I scoffed and logged out of WhatsApp.
I tossed my phone onto the desk.
I had to ignore it.
Twenty years ago, Dad left with us, nothing but the clothes on our backs, and cut off everything for good.
Twenty years later, there was no way I'd ever personally drag back those rotten, foul relationships.
I fired up my laptop and forced myself to dive into work.
I reviewed contracts, replied to emails, and prepared materials for tomorrow's court hearing.
But no matter how hard I tried, all the words on the screen kept morphing into William's messages.
[My dad's dying.
[Our family's bankrupt.
[Grandpa left a real will.
[All the family assets are yours.]
My heart was racing, completely out of control.
Logic told me this was all a lie.
But deep inside, a voice kept whispering, "What if it's actually true?"
Grandma really loved me.
Almost every warm memory I had from childhood was about her.
She'd sneak me a candy when no one was looking.
If others picked on me, she'd chase them around the yard with a broom.
And whenever Grandpa was chewing out Dad, she'd step in and speak up for him.
Right before she passed away, Grandma held my hand and said, "Serena, girls in our family need to have some backbone. Never let anyone look down on you."
She said that the places she never got to visit in her lifetime, she wanted her ashes to travel there for her.
Dad told me Grandma was the one who told him to go.
She said this family was rotten to the core.
For a woman who could say things like that, who could give her son gold bars as she lay dying, and urge him to get as far away as possible, nothing was out of the question for her.
My phone buzzed again.
I grabbed my phone and saw a voice message from William.
I hesitated for a second, then hit play.
His voice came through the speaker, shaky and thick with suppressed despair.
"Serena, I'm begging you, please come back.
"Just have some pity on me, on my dad.
"He's really dying. The doctors say it could be any day now.
"Whenever he's awake, he keeps saying how sorry he is to your dad, to your whole family.
"He says he's guilty, and he wants to make amends to your dad in person.
"I know we treated you like garbage before. We were monsters, not even human.
"But now, we truly realize how wrong we were.
"The old estate is about to be auctioned off by the court. It's the last thing Grandpa and Grandma left us.
"I'm begging you, Serena..."
The message ended abruptly.
I could picture William on the other end, a thirty-year-old man, crying his heart out.
I turned off the voice message and closed my eyes.
My mind was a mess.
When I got home, Mom was out in the garden, watering the flowers and humming a little tune.
Dad was sitting in his rocking chair on the balcony, wrapped in a blanket, reading a collection of poetry.
The last rays of the setting sun bathed his silver hair, making everything feel warm and peaceful.
This was the life I traded twenty years for—peaceful, happy, and free from all the drama.
Was I really going to throw all this away for a will that might not even be real?
I walked over and sat down on the small stool beside him.
"Dad," I said.
"Hey, you're home," he replied.
Dad put his book down and smiled warmly at me.
"Rough day at work?" he asked.
"Not at all," I replied.
I met his eyes, trying to find the right words.
"Dad, I... I think I need to go back home," I said.
His smile paused for a second.
Dad looked at me, his eyes turning thoughtful and deep.
"What made you suddenly want to go back?" he asked.
"Work's sending me on a business trip," I said.
I lied.
I couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth.
I was afraid he'd worry, and even more terrified he'd have to return to that place that broke his heart.
"And... I want to visit Grandma's grave," I added. "We've been away for so many years, and we've never gone back to see her.
"I want to bring her ashes here.
"Just like she always wished, so she can finally see the world beyond."
As soon as I said that, Dad visibly shuddered.
His eyes instantly welled up with tears.
This was the one thing that always got to him.
It was the regret our whole family shared about Grandma.
He stayed silent for so long until the last traces of dusk faded from the sky.
Finally, he spoke, his voice hoarse and heavy. "Okay. Go ahead. But Serena, you have to promise me one thing."
"What is it?" I asked.
He turned to me, his face absolutely serious. "Don't meet with anyone from the Harper family.
"Don't get involved with them in any way.
"Once you've taken care of Grandma's business, come straight back.
"Can you do that?"
I looked into Dad's bloodshot eyes—filled with worry, reminders, and something I couldn't quite understand, a deep exhaustion.
I nodded hard.
"Dad, I promise," I said.
That night, I booked a flight back.
Before leaving, I sent William a message: [Send me the address.]