Pick: Rich Stepdad or Poor Grandpa?
After my father died, my mother remarried and took my younger sister and me with her. But her new husband had one condition—she could only bring one child.
I found out the truth from people who still missed my dad: my grandfather was actually a wealthy antique collector.
My sister held onto him for dear life, refusing to let go. But in his eyes, her only job was to get straight A's; everything else—her clothes, her meals, her allowance—was kept to the bare minimum.
I went with my stepfather instead. His business took off, and we eventually moved into a huge mansion. He even set me up with an engagement to the heir of a powerful, wealthy family.
My sister was eaten up with jealousy. One day, she doused me in gasoline and dragged us both back in time to that day we had to choose our futures.
This time, she lunged for my stepfather's hand and held on tight. "I want to stay with Mom and Dad," she announced.
I didn't miss a beat. I immediately ducked behind my grandfather.
'Fine, Phoebe. You're the one who chose a life as a bargaining chip. Don't blame me for it. You can have it.'