Chapter 3

The next morning, Uncle Michael brought up the matter of transferring ownership of Grandma's house.

"Monica, let's settle the title transfer for Mom's house today."

He sat on the living room couch with one leg crossed over the other, carrying himself like he was now the irrefutable head of the family.

Aunt Fiona filled our cups with tea, her face beaming. "That's right, Monica. Randy is getting married next month. We need to prepare a marital home for him as soon as possible."

Mom sat across from them, her hands twisting together in her lap. Her lips parted, but no words came out.

I stood behind her and answered for her.

"Uncle Michael, shouldn't we check Grandma's will to see who gets the house?"

Uncle Michael's expression stiffened for a moment before returning to normal. "The will? Your grandma didn't leave a will. Before she died, she told me about her wishes verbally. She wanted Randy to get the house."

"She told you verbally, huh?" I chuckled. "Is there a witness?"

"I'm her son. My word count as the word of a witness." Uncle Michael's tone hardened as he shot me an impatient glare. "You're just her granddaughter. It's not your place to interfere."

At last, Mom finally spoke up. "Michael, Cassie is right. If Mom made a will, we should abide by it. If not, then—"

"There's no will!" Uncle Michael cut her off. "Don't listen to your daughter's attempt to stir the pot, Monica! Mom always said she wanted Randy to get the house. You know that!"

Mom lowered her head. She was never informed of that, but she was used to just nodding along with them. "Alright… In that case—"

"No!" I stepped forward and stood right in front of Mom. "If there's no will, we'll deal with this in accordance with the inheritance laws. Since Mom and Uncle Michael both count as primary beneficiaries, they're each entitled to half of the house."

"Why, you—" Uncle Michael shot to his feet, his face purple with rage. "What do you even know about the law, huh? You studied to be a vet—"

"So what if I studied to be a vet? I still know the law!"

I stared right into his eyes and continued, "According to the rules of intestate succession, inheritance passes sequentially to the spouse, children, and parents of the deceased. Grandpa's dead, and so are Grandma's parents, so her children are her primary heirs. And the law specifies that each one of you gets half."

The living room fell silent for several seconds.

The smile had long since disappeared from Aunt Fiona's face. She was now sporting a wounded, indignant expression.

"How can you say that, Cassie? We were the ones taking care of your grandma before she died. How many times did your mom even visit her in a year?"

Those words stabbed Mom right in the heart. She tensed, and her lips pressed into a thin line.

It was true that she rarely came by to see Grandma, but it wasn't because she didn't want to.

Whenever she did, Aunt Fiona would remark sarcastically, "What are you doing here, Monica? Are you here to take some of Mom's valuables again?"

Being the sensitive, self-conscious type, Mom became too embarrassed to come over after hearing such comments twice.

But she never stopped paying for Grandma's medical expenses. Whenever Uncle Michael called to say that Grandma had been hospitalized, Mom would transfer the money without any hesitation.

"You took care of Grandma?" I turned toward Aunt Fiona. "Since you claim to have done that, tell me this—who has been holding onto Grandma's bank card, the one with access to her pension payouts?"

Aunt Fiona's expression cracked a little. "What bank card?"

"Grandma received a monthly pension payout of 3,800 dollars. And for the past six months, Mom covered practically all of her medical expenses. The other miscellaneous expenses shouldn't be anywhere near 20 thousand dollars. So where did the rest of the money go?"

"H-how did you know that…" Aunt Fiona's voice rose sharply. She finally looked panicked now.

Ignoring that question, I went on, "According to Grandma's medical records, the only medicine she got in the final three months of her life was two boxes of blood pressure medication. But she had diabetes, hypertension, and a mild cerebral infarction. She needed to be on at least five different medications every month. What happened to the rest? What happened to Grandma's medication, Aunt Fiona?"

The temperature in the living room seemed to drop considerably. Uncle Michael's gaze had changed. I caught the nervous guilt in his eyes.