Then the second.
My name appeared again and again.
**Amelia Grace Bennett.**
Trust beneficiary.
Property.
Shares.
Accounts.
I looked up.
“I don’t understand.”
Grandpa lowered himself into his chair.
“Your grandmother created a trust before she died.”
Mom closed her eyes.
“She wanted certain property protected until you turned twenty-five.”
“Why me?”
Grandpa glanced toward Grandma’s photograph on the bookshelf.
“Because she believed you would protect the family history instead of selling it.”
Ava gave a bitter laugh.
“There. See? Amelia gets everything.”
“No,” Grandpa said.
His gaze snapped toward her.
“You received your share years ago.”
Ava froze.
So did I.
“What share?”
Grandpa turned to Mom.
“Tell them.”
Her lips tightened.
“Walter—”
“Tell them.”
She sank into a chair.
For the first time in my life, my mother seemed small.
“When your grandmother died,” she began, “she left money for both of you.”
I stared at her.
