Chapter 8
Hank's face was more grim than Mandy's.
He stared at me, his eyes bloodshot, disbelief written all over his face.
He was clutching a delivery envelope, the one from Vivian's law firm.
He'd clearly already read what was inside. "Jenny, what the hell are you trying to do?"
His voice was hoarse with rage. "You went and got yourself a lawyer? Trying to take my house and my money?
"I never thought you'd go this far. You vicious bitch."
I watched Hank freak out, but inside, I was completely calm.
"That's not your money. It's what we built together," I corrected him coldly. "You're the one who wanted me out with nothing."
"Jenny, you..." Hank was left speechless, unable to say a word.
Seeing Hank lose his edge, Mandy jumped in, yelling, "How dare you. After all the money you've drained from the Miller family, now you're trying to blame us instead?
"Let me tell you, you're not getting a single cent."
As she spoke, she reached out to shove me. "Get out. You're not welcome here."
Henry, lying in bed, turned bright red with anxiety as he watched the scene unfold.
He waved his arms frantically, letting out angry, guttural sounds. He wanted to stop them, to protect me.
In the chaos, his wild movements caused something hidden in his hospital gown sleeve to fall out.
It hit the polished floor with a soft thud.
It was a small bundle wrapped in cloth.
The whole room went still.
Everyone's gaze locked onto the bundle.
Henry became more frantic. With what little strength he had left, he gestured toward the bundle and then at me.
Muffled yet desperate sounds escaped his mouth.
Vivian was the closest to the bundle. She bent down and picked it up.
She unwrapped the bundle, layer by layer.
Everyone seemed to stop breathing for a moment.
Inside, there wasn't any cash or jewelry, but a maroon property deed and a few neatly folded documents.
Vivian's eyes landed on the property deed first.
She flipped it open, her eyebrows arching in surprise.
The address on the deed wasn't our current home. It was somewhere in the city's old downtown district.
The owner listed was Henry.
This was a property Hank and Mandy knew nothing about—a private place Henry had kept hidden all this time.
Then Vivian unfolded the stack of A4 documents.
The bold heading at the top made her eyes narrow in surprise.
It was a printed draft of a will.
Vivian's eyes swept rapidly over the paper.
Her expression shifted from surprise to realization, and finally, to a sly, confident smile.
The hospital room was dead silent.
Mandy and Hank stared at what Vivian was holding, their faces drained of color.
Apparently, they were realizing what it could be.
"W-What is this?" Mandy's voice trembled. "Henry, what have you been hiding from us?"
Hank stared at his father, looking utterly shocked and betrayed.
Vivian ignored them.
She looked up at me, then glanced at Henry in the hospital bed, hope shining in his eyes.
She cleared her throat. "Well, it seems I should read this rather intriguing document to everyone present."
Vivian's voice was clear and calm, echoing through the small hospital room. "This is a draft of a will. The person making the will is Henry Miller."
She paused, her gaze sweeping over Hank and Mandy's pale faces. "The will states that during the two years since his stroke, his son Hank and wife Mandy neglected his care and acted coldly.
"His daughter-in-law, Jenny, attended to him tirelessly, treating him as her own father.
"Out of gratitude for her devotion, and to provide for her future, Henry Miller voluntarily leaves his property at 32 Beacon Hill Place to Jenny Shaw.
"This is his personal property. No other person has any right to it."
When Vivian finished reading, the room was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. It felt like time had stopped.