I reached out for the sealed envelope, but Monsieur Lambert stopped me with a firm gesture.
— “Eleonora,” he said in his deep voice, “this document is the last will and testament of your aunt Vivienne. She foresaw… this visit.”
My gaze hardened. My parents, the ones who had left me behind without a word, could no longer maintain their fake smiles. My mother wrung her hands, my father cleared his throat, trying to maintain an air of control that crumbled by the second.
I tore open the envelope with trembling fingers. The paper gave off a faint scent of lavender, so characteristic of Vivienne. Her elegant and precise handwriting sounded to me like a voice from beyond.
“Eleonora, if you read these words, it means I’m no longer here. I leave you my inheritance not out of blood obligation, but because you have proven yourself strong, honest, and worthy. Know that your parents will return now, as always: too late and with their hands outstretched. You owe them nothing. Everything I leave is solely yours. I made sure to seal the documents. They have no rights over you or your property. Remember: true family is the one we choose, not the one that abandons us. With love, Vivienne.”
Tears blurred my vision. I hadn’t cried at the funeral, but now, in front of my parents, every word Vivienne spoke pierced my soul like a dagger.
“This… this is invalid!” my father shouted, trying to snatch the letter from my hands. Monsieur Lambert lifted a thick folder and spoke calmly.
— “Mr. Martin, all the documents are notarized and filed. Vivienne knew exactly what she was doing. You have no rights whatsoever: neither to the inheritance, nor to your adult daughter.”
My mother put her hands to her face and let out a fake sob.
— “Eleonora, we made a mistake, yes, but we did it for your own good… Life was too hard then. We wanted to give you a better chance…”
A bitter laugh escaped my throat.
— “For my own good?” I repeated, my voice cracking with rage. “For my own good, they left me alone with a woman I barely knew? I waited for them for years. Every birthday, every Christmas, every night, I dreamed of their return. And now, after fifteen years, they come in here, with fake smiles, claiming to be my guardians?”
The silence was heavy in the room.
Monsieur Lambert nodded gravely.
— “Eleonora is right. But Vivienne thought of this too. She left you a second envelope. Just for you.”
He took another envelope from the folder, their names written in the same firm handwriting. My parents tore it out eagerly. A single sheet of paper fell out. My father picked it up and read aloud, his voice trembling:
“To those who chose to leave: everything you have lost is a consequence of your own decisions. You left behind a child. I raised her, I made her strong. She owes you nothing. If you came for money, leave. If you came for forgiveness, you don’t deserve it. It is not I who will judge you, but your own conscience.”
The silence became unbearable.
My mother burst into tears, but inside me there wasn’t a trace of compassion left. In that instant I understood what Vivienne had truly bequeathed me: not just a fortune, but my freedom.
“Let’s go,” my father finally murmured, his voice barely audible. They put on their coats without daring to look at me. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving a heavy emptiness.
I slumped in my chair, clutching Vivienne’s letter to my chest. I felt the chains of the past breaking one by one. I was the heir, not only to her possessions, but also to her strength, her discipline, and her lessons.
Monsieur Lambert placed a hand on my shoulder.
— “Eleonora, now your real life begins. You have the resources, you have the freedom, and you have the wisdom she left you. The rest depends only on you.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Inside me there was no more fear, only determination. Vivienne’s house, her company, her legacy… everything was now in my hands.
And for the first time in many years, I truly smiled.
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