The moment I saw my brother Maverick cruising down the street in a shiny red convertible, my gut told me something was wrong. That car wasn’t just a flashy ride—it was a signal. Little did I know, that convertible held the key to a betrayal I never expected. A betrayal that Gran had seen coming long before her time had passed.
I’m Juniper, 26 years old, and I’ve been living out of state for the past four years. Leaving was the best decision I ever made. Getting away from my family—and the constant hurt that came with it—was the only way I could start to heal.
I never really felt like I belonged with them. My parents always favored my older brother, Maverick. He was their golden child, but that doesn’t even begin to describe it. Growing up, I was just… there. Gran used to joke, with a twinkle in her eye, that I was the “spare,” but it was always said with warmth. That’s part of why I left.
Well, that and Noel—my boyfriend. He was the one who convinced me it was time to break free and live for myself, away from the shadows of my family.
We packed up our little car, and I moved with him to the city, leaving behind my parents, Maverick, and all the painful memories.
“I just couldn’t stay there anymore,” I’d told Noel once over dinner. I still remember his warm smile from across the table as he reached out to hold my hand.
“You don’t have to explain it again, June. You did the right thing,” he said, squeezing my hand gently. “You deserve better than being treated like the second choice.”
After four years away, I barely spoke to my family anymore. The calls became less frequent, texts were almost non-existent. My parents? They didn’t seem to care. It was as if I’d just faded out of their lives. The only person who ever stayed in touch was Gran.
She made me feel like I mattered. When I was a kid, she’d sneak me chocolate bars when Mom wasn’t looking or call me late at night just to hear about my day. She didn’t care if I had nothing interesting to say—she just wanted to listen.
Then one day, I found out Gran had passed away. But it wasn’t from a phone call or a message from my family. I found out through Facebook. Can you believe that? I was scrolling through my feed and saw a post from an old family friend. Gran’s picture. A date. And the words “Rest in Peace.”
I froze. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at my phone, waiting for something to make sense. But it didn’t. It felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me.
I dropped my phone and muttered, “Gran’s gone.”
Noel looked up from the couch, concern in his eyes. “What? What do you mean she’s gone?”
“She died. No one even told me,” I said, the sting of tears burning my eyes. But it wasn’t just sadness—it was anger. Betrayal. “How could they not tell me?”
Noel was up in an instant, wrapping his arms around me, but nothing made sense. Why hadn’t my parents called? Or even Maverick?
I booked a flight back home that night.
I needed to visit Gran’s grave. I had to say goodbye, even if it was too late. The next morning, I found myself walking the familiar streets of my hometown, a place I hadn’t seen in years. Everything looked the same, but there was one glaring difference.
I blinked in disbelief as I saw Maverick driving by in a shiny red convertible. Maverick? The brother who could barely afford rent and worked as a cashier? How on earth was he driving a car that looked like it cost more than his life savings?
My stomach churned with suspicion. Something wasn’t right.
Later that day, I stood at Gran’s grave, the soft breeze rustling the leaves around me. The earth was still fresh, and the weight of losing her without saying goodbye pressed heavily on my heart. The pain of finding out about her death through Facebook stung like an open wound.
As I knelt beside the grave, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see Mr. Anderson, Gran’s closest friend. He was an older man, always helping her out when she needed it. His face was serious as he approached.
“Juniper, I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, standing beside me. “Your Gran… she was a special lady.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “She really was. I just wish I had more time with her.”
He nodded, lost in thought for a moment, before he turned to me. “Did you get the $20,000 she left for you?”
I blinked in shock. “The… what?”
Mr. Anderson’s brow furrowed. “Your Gran mentioned in her will that she set aside $20,000 for you. I thought you knew.”
My heart sank. The red convertible. It all made sense now. Maverick had used the money Gran left me. The anger I had been trying to contain erupted.
“No,” I said, standing up, my fists clenched. “I didn’t know.”
Mr. Anderson looked pale. “Oh, Juniper, I’m so sorry.”
But I wasn’t listening anymore. I needed answers. I stormed out, heading straight for Maverick’s trailer, my mind spinning. He had stolen from me—the money Gran left for me, the one person in my family who truly cared about me.
When I reached Maverick’s trailer, I was ready to confront him. But what I saw stopped me in my tracks. There, in the driveway, was the red convertible—completely wrecked. The front was smashed, the windshield shattered, and the tires looked like they had been through a disaster.
And there stood Maverick, leaning on crutches, his leg in a cast, his face bruised and scraped. He looked like a mess.
I approached him, my anger momentarily replaced by shock. “Maverick, what the hell happened?”
He shifted uncomfortably on his crutches, avoiding my gaze. “It’s… it’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” I gestured at the wrecked car. “That doesn’t look like nothing! What did you do? And why did you take Gran’s money?”
He winced, clearly cornered. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, Juniper. I… I thought I’d borrow it. I was gonna pay you back. But then I saw the car, and…”
“Borrow it?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You don’t ‘borrow’ twenty thousand dollars that wasn’t left to you! Gran left that money for me, Maverick. She actually cared about me, and you just took it like it was nothing. And now look at you—this is karma.”
Maverick opened his mouth to protest, but I wasn’t finished. “You’ve always taken everything. Mom and Dad’s attention, their affection—it was always about you. But this? This was different. This was from Gran. She cared about me, and you stole that from me.”
Maverick hung his head. “I messed up, okay? I thought…”
“You thought what? That I wouldn’t find out? That I didn’t deserve it?”
He had no answer. We stood there in silence, the weight of everything hanging between us. Then, my phone buzzed. It was Mr. Clearwater, Gran’s lawyer.
“Juniper,” he said. “I’ve been reviewing your grandmother’s will. There’s something you need to know. Your grandmother predicted this might happen.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my heart pounding.
“She knew Maverick might try to take the money, so she had a plan. The $20,000 was just a portion of her estate. The rest of it—her house, her savings, her investments—it’s all yours, Juniper.”
I was speechless. “Everything?”
“Yes,” Mr. Clearwater confirmed. “Your grandmother wanted to make sure you were taken care of, so you wouldn’t have to rely on anyone.”
Tears welled in my eyes. Even in death, Gran was still looking out for me. She had known, and she had protected me in her own special way.
I turned to Maverick. “I hope the car was worth it, Maverick. I hope you enjoyed the ride.”
“Juniper, I—” he started, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand.
“Don’t. I’m done with excuses.”
Without another word, I walked away, leaving Maverick standing there, broken in more ways than one. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like the forgotten sibling. Gran had made sure of that.
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