**Diary Entry**
*6th May, 2024*
“Get ready—Mum and your brother are coming to claim their share of the inheritance.”
I gave up my part of the inheritance in favour of Dad, but in the end, he left me the entire flat. His words still echo in my mind: *”You’ll understand later. Just don’t trust them—they’ll lie.”* Back then, I didn’t know who he meant. But now, it all makes sense.
My name is Emma. I have an aunt, Grace—my mother’s younger sister. They hadn’t spoken in years. Rumour had it Grace had taken all of our grandmother’s inheritance for herself. I knew I had cousins, Oliver and Lily. We played together as children, then lost touch. Recently, Lily found me online and dropped a bombshell that left me cold.
These last few years have been full of loss. Mum passed three years ago. Dad held on just long enough to see me graduate from university in Manchester, then followed her. They adored each other—he spoiled her endlessly, carrying her worries as if they were his own. I think he never truly recovered from losing her.
After Mum’s death, Dad inherited half of our flat. I signed my share over to him, yet to my surprise, he transferred the whole property to me. *”You’ll figure it out,”* he said. *”Just don’t trust them—they’ll lie.”* I pressed him—who were *they*? What were the lies? But he brushed me off.
Six months after his funeral, Lily messaged me. She reminded me she was Grace’s daughter and said she’d be passing through Manchester soon. *”We need to talk,”* she wrote. *”It’s important.”* I saw no harm in it, gave her my address, and asked her to call ahead.
She arrived a week later. I met her at the station—she seemed uneasy. Back at the flat, she glanced around and said, *”Nice place. Shame you’ll have to leave soon.”* In the kitchen, she revealed everything: Oliver was my half-brother. She didn’t know the details, but according to her, that’s why Gran left everything to Grace instead of splitting it between the sisters.
Lily claimed Dad had once been with Grace, then left her when she fell pregnant with Oliver—only to marry Mum. *”Mum and Oliver are coming to claim their share,”* she warned. *”Be ready.”*
I was stunned. Oliver wouldn’t get a penny—the flat was legally mine, Dad’s savings were tucked away at home (he never trusted banks), and the car was bought with my own money. The story seemed absurd—Dad worshipped Mum. But life can be cruel.
*”Thanks for the warning,”* I said. *”Let them come.”*
I made up the spare bed, but I’m a light sleeper. That night, a rustling jolted me awake. Lily was at my desk, rifling through my things under the glow of her phone.
*”Lost something?”* I asked.
She jumped, dropping her phone—it shattered on the floor.
*”I—I was just…”* she stammered.
*”Go to bed. And leave tomorrow. I don’t want guests who snoop.”*
By morning, she was gone. The door was ajar, but nothing was missing.
Days later, Grace called, slurring her words.
*”You tricked your father into signing the flat over, didn’t you?”* she shrieked. *”You’ve cheated your own brother! He’s stuck in a rented place while you live comfortably—all because of your mother! If not for her, your father would’ve married me!”*
I hung up. She didn’t call back. But Lily kept pestering me, demanding I replace her broken phone—as if it were my fault.
Grace and Oliver never showed. Lily must have told them the flat was mine. Now I understand why Mum kept her distance. Some family are worse than strangers.
