Then Robert turned the page.
To my daughter Hannah, I leave the family cabin and the surrounding 200 acres of land in the Adirondacks.
For a second, the room went quiet.
A cabin?
My father had left Megan the penthouse lifestyle and handed me an old shack in the woods.
I kept my face blank. I had learned that skill in the army. Never let anyone see your reaction. But Megan wasn’t about to let it go. She leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms, and smirked at me.
“A cabin fits you perfectly, you stinking woman.”
She didn’t whisper. She wanted everyone to hear.
Some people gasped. My mom looked down at the table, refusing to make eye contact. Robert shifted uncomfortably, but kept reading like pretending it didn’t happen would make it go away.
I clenched my jaw. It wasn’t the insult that got me. I’d been called worse in Afghanistan by people who wanted me dead. It was the fact that my own sister, sitting across from me in our father’s house, thought it was okay to spit on me like that in front of everyone.
