"So you took everything. You cut Lucas out."
Her jaw tightened. "How dare you."
I slid the second document across the table.
"They also documented the money you took. Every withdrawal. Every transfer. Mom kept records."
The color drained from her face.
For a moment, she couldn't speak.
Then she recovered, and her voice sharpened into something cold.
"How dare you."
"You think a letter and some papers mean anything? I have rights. I have history in this family."
"You have neither," I said quietly. "Not anymore."
"Lucas," she said, turning toward him with a pleading softness. "Sweetheart, you don't understand what's happening. Your sibling is stealing your inheritance. She's keeping the house for herself and cutting you out. I'm trying to help you."
Lucas didn't move.
"You think a letter and some papers mean anything?"
"I've read the letter," he said. "I've known for months."
Her mouth opened, then closed.
