ROSE''S POINT OF VIEW


    Thew office of Berkman, Wade, and Associates smelled of leather, money, and superiority. I adjusted my ck dress and studied the others in the conference room. Mom dabbed at her eyes with a monogran All of us performing our assigned roles. The grieving family. The heartbroken ex-


    husband. A perfect tableau of loss.


    And why wouldn''t we? Camille was dead. I knew that for certain. The men I''d hired hadn''t just scared her as originally nned, they''d gone further, forcing her car off that bridge, watching it sink into the dark wa Martin Greene entered, carrying a leather portfolio. Dad''s longtimewyer looked appropriately grave as he took a Scal


    "Thank you all foring." he said. "With the court having legally dered Camille deceased in absentia, we can now proceed with herst will and testament."


    "Is this really necessary?" Mom asked, voice wavering. "It''s only been six months.”


    "In cases of drowning where no body is


    recovered, the court can grant a death certificate after reasonable search efforts have concluded," Martin exined.


    "As Camille had significant independent assets that require disposition, the judge approved the derationst week."


    I kept my expression neutral, though my mind raced. Independent assets? What independent assets?


    “?


    wasn''t aware my sister had estate nning," I said, injecting just the right note of confusion.


    twenty-fifths


    Martin opened his portfolio. "Camille updated her willst year, shortly after her As you may recall, that was when she received her inheritance from her grandfather."


    My blood froze. Grandfather Lewis. Dad''s father. The crusty old man who had doted on Camille, his only biological grandchild, whilergely ignoring me.


    "What inheritance?" I asked


    sharply, then immediately softened my tone. "I mean, she never mentioned receiving anything substantial,"


    Dad finally looked up. "My father left Camille a portion of his estate when she


    turned twenty-five. It was private, between them."


    "Howrge a portion?" The question escaped before I could temper it.


    Martin cleared his throat. “Mr. Lewis Senior established a trust for Camille valued at approximately thirty million dors, along with the Cedar Hill estate."


    The room spun around me. Thirty million dors. Plus a mansion on twenty acres of primend. And she had never said a word.


    "That''s impossible," I whispered "I would have known."


    "Camille wanted it kept quiet," Dad said. "She said money changes


    how people see you."


    Martin removed a document from his portfolio. "This is thest will and testament of Camille Elizabeth Lewis, revised and signed six months before her passing"


    I leaned forward. Whatever secret fortune she''d hidden, it would surelye to her family now. To me, her only sister.


    "To my parents, Richard and Margaret Lewis, I leave my collection of family photographs and my gratitude for the life they gave me."


    Martin paused, ncing at my parents. Dad nodded stiffly. Mom''s crying grew louder.


    "To my sister, Rose Lewis, I leave my journal collection, in hopes she maye to understand me better in death than she did in life."


    The journals. The ones I''d already taken and altered. A chill ran down my spine.


    "To my former husband, Stefan Rodriguez, I return the engagement ring that belonged to his grandmother, with the hope that next time he gives it, it will be with honesty and true devotion." Stefan flinched visibly. The ring had been a


    source of pride, a family heirloom that supposedly symbolized hismitment.


    "As to the remainder of my estate, including all financial assets, investment ounts, personal property not specifically mentioned, the Cedar Hill estate, and the entire bnce of the trust established by my gra Here it was. The thirty million dors and luxury estate that would surely be distributed among us.


    One hundred percent of said assets shall be donated to the Lighthouse Foundation for Abused and Abandoned Children, to establish the Camille Lewis Memorial Fund for the education and support of girls in th The silence that followed was absolute. Even Mom''s crying stopped abruptly.


    "I''m sorry," I said, my voice unnaturally high, "but could you repeat that?"


    Martin nced up. "The entirety of Camille''s estate, after specific bequests, is to be donated to the Lighthouse Foundation."


    "That''s not possible." The words burst from me. "There must be some mistake."


    "There''s no mistake, Ms. Lewis. The will is quite clear and legally binding."


    "But..." I struggled to maintainposure. "That''s thirty million dors and a prime piece of real estate. Going toplete strangers. While her family gets


    nothing but photographs and... and journals?"


    Martin withdrew an envelope. "She also left a letter to be read at this time, exining her decision


    Dad nodded his permission, his expression unreadable.


    Martin broke the seal on the envelope and unfolded the letter within.


    "To my family," he read. "If you''re hearing this, then I am gone, and you are now learning something I kept from all of you, that Grandfather left me a substantial inheritance when I turned twenty-


    five. I chose not to share this information, partly because I was still deciding how best to use such an unexpected blessing, but mostly because I needed to understand its power without influence from others."" I dug my fingernails into my palmus. Even in presumed death, Camille was judging us,


    "The money gave me


    freedom I never expected to have. Frodom to consider who I really was outside of other people''s expectations and maniptions. Freedom to make choices based on my own values rather than seeking approv My gaze flicked to Stefan, who looked physically ill. Had he known about the money when he signed those divorce papers?


    "I have chosen to direct my inheritance to help girls whock the family support structure I was fortunate enough to have. The Lighthouse Foundation specifically assists young women transitioning from foster c my parents, thank you for the security and opportunities you provided. This decision isn''t a rejection of you, but rather an attempt to extend simr advantages to those without your resources."


    Dad''s jaw tightened. Mom resumed her quiet crying


    “To Stefan, I''ve returned your grandmother''s ring not out of


    bitterness, but because family legacies should continue with truemitment.""


    "And


    to Rose, my sister by choice if not by blood, I leave my journals with hope rather than malice. In them, you''ll find the unfiltered thoughts of someone who spent years trying to understand you, to love you despite


    me to be


    The blood drained from my face. *Sister by choice if not by blood.* A pointed reminder of my adopted status.


    "I harbor no illusions that my modest fortune could


    have enhanced the lives of my already privileged family, but I believe it can transform the futures of dozens of young women who start with nothing. In this way, perhaps my departure might create meaning bey Martin folded the letter. "It''s signed, ''Withplicated love, Camille.""


    The silence felt charged with my unspoken rage. Thirty million


    dors. Gone. To strangers. To foster girls who would never appreciate it properly.


    "This can''t be legal," I finally said. "She clearly wasn''t in her right mind."


    Martin raised


    an eyebrow. "The will was properly executed with witnesses who attested


    to her mentalpetence. The charitable intent is quite clear and legally sound."


    But we''re her family," I insisted, looking to my parents for support. "Doesn''t that count for anything?"


    "Camille had every legal right to dispose of her property as she wished," Martin replied.


    "We could


    contest it," I suggested, turning to Dad. "Argue undue influence or something."


    Dad finally spoke, his voice tired. "Rose, enough. Camille made her choice. We will respect it."


    But Dad..."


    "I said enough. My daughter is dead. I won''t dishonor her memory by fighting over money none of us need." Mom reached for his hand. "Richard is right. This is what Camille wanted. Perhaps it will help us find


    her loss."


    I stared at them in disbelief. Were they seriously epting is?


    "Stefan?" I turned to him, seeking an ally. "Don''t you have anything to say?"


    He looked up slowly. "What is there to say? Camille made her wishes clear." He gave a bitterugh. "At least I get the


    ring back. Smallfort."


    Martin cleared his throat. The transfer process has already begun. The Lighthouse Foundation has been notified, though the public announcement will wait until the family has had time to process this privately." As we prepared to leave, I noticed Dr. Elena Reyes, director of the Lighthouse Foundation, waiting in


    the reception


    area


    "I won''t intrude on your family''s grief," she said softly, "I only wanted


    to express how Camille''s generosity will change lives. The girls in our program face nearly impossible odds, and this gift will provide opportunities they could never have imagined."


    Mom stepped forward, taking the woman''s hands in hers. "Would you tell me about your program sometime? I''d like to know more about what Camille was supporting"


    In the elevator, I maintained myposure with effort. "I still think we should consider contesting the will. For Camille''s sake. She clearly wasn''t thinking clearly."


    Dad''s expression hardened. "Drop it, Rose. The money and property were never yours to begin with. Camille made her choice, and we will honor it."


    "But-


    "I said drop it. I''ve lost my daughter. I won''t lose my integrity too by fighting over her wishes."


    The elevator doors opened, ending the conversation.


    I declined the offer to ride home with my parents. In my own car, with the privacy screen raised, I finally let my mask slip, mming my fist against the leather seat.


    Thirty million dors and the


    Cedar Hill estate. The amounts kept repeating in my mind like a taunt. Assets Camille had hidden from me. Wealth that should have been mine, Money now flowing to unwashed, uncultured foster brats who wo


    I, who had survived the system through cunning and determination. I, who had wed my way into the Lewis family through careful study and perfect performance. I, who had spent fourteen years proving my


    And now, the final insult, Camille''s money going to help girls from the very background I''d fought so desperately to escape and conceal.


    The journals sat beside me, a mocking reminder of her final message. *In hope rather than malice. As if she''d somehow known I would take


    them. As if she''d anticipated my every move.


    But she couldn''t have. The real Camille had been naive, trusting, easily manipted. This will had likely been written in a moment of misguided altruism, not calcted revenge.


    Unless....


    What if Camille had


    updated her will after discovering I and Stefan''s affair before her death? After beginning to see through


    my maniptions?


    What if the money had originally been intended for me, and she''d changed her mind upon discovering my betraval?