Chapter 8 - The Return and the Audit
We returned to Ohio in late April, relaxed, sun-kissed, and brimming with unforgettable memories.
When I opened my mailbox on our first day back, I found a official letter waiting for me from a local estate law firm.
I opened it over coffee. The letter was a formal summons for a family mediation meeting requested by my father regarding the "distribution of family asset responsibilities."
I brought the letter straight to my attorney, Marcus Vance—a sharp, brilliant lawyer who had helped me set up my independent business structure years ago.
Marcus read the letter and laughed out loud. "Your father is trying to claim that because you stopped contributing to the family pool, you are liable for a portion of the family debt incurred during holiday preparations."
"Is that even legally possible?" I asked, amazed by my family's relentless insanity.
"Not in a million years," Marcus chuckled. "You are an independent adult. You owe them nothing. In fact, Sarah... based on the financial records you gave me regarding your father’s handling of your late grandmother's estate five years ago, he actually owes you money."
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
"When your grandmother passed away in 2021," Marcus explained, pulling up a digital file, "she left a $150,000 trust fund meant to be divided equally between her two granddaughters—you and Jessica. Your father was the sole executor of that trust."
My chest tightened. "I only received $15,000 when Grandma died. Dad told me the rest went toward taxes and estate fees."
Marcus smiled grimly. "We ran a financial audit on that estate last month when you mentioned the cruise. Your father illegally transferred $60,000 of your share directly to Jessica to pay off her credit card debt and buy her SUV, claiming it was an 'executor administrative fee'."
I sat back in my leather chair, stunned into absolute silence.
It wasn't just small favoritisms, old clothes, and cheap graduation gifts. My parents had actively, illegally stolen fifty thousand dollars of my inheritance to fund my sister's suburban lifestyle.
"Marcus," I said, my voice dropping into a razor-sharp tone. "Send them a response."
May you like
"What would you like the response to say?"
"Tell them that if they don't repay my remaining $60,000 inheritance plus interest within thirty days, I will file formal grand larceny charges against my father with the county prosecutor."
