I always believed that family was unbreakable. That no matter what happened, blood was blood, and at the end of the day, we would always stand by each other. That’s what family is supposed to do, right?
But after my mother passed away, my sister Barbara made me question everything I thought I knew. And by the time the truth finally came out, it wasn’t me who was left begging for forgiveness.
It was her.
The Golden Child
My mother raised two daughters: me, Charlotte, and my older sister, Barbara.
Barbara had always been the golden child. The one who got all the attention. If she wanted roast chicken, my mother would have one cooking before Barbara even had to ask twice. If Barbara needed her dry cleaning picked up, my mother would drop everything and rush out the door to fetch it.
Barbara was stunningly beautiful. She had golden blonde hair, piercing blue eyes—just like our mother. Everywhere she went, heads turned. People noticed her. People adored her.
And then there was me.
I was the odd one out. Dark hair. Dark eyes. I didn’t look like them, but I never thought to question it. Why would I? I loved my mother more than anything. She was my world, my everything.
So when she got sick, I was the one who put my life on hold to take care of her. I never once complained—not when my arms ached from holding her up as she struggled to move, not when she screamed in frustration and threw her food across the room, and not even when she broke down in tears for hours at a time.
Barbara, on the other hand?
She was too busy chasing her dreams of becoming an actress.
“I can’t take care of Mom, Charlotte,” she had said one evening, sipping on a glass of wine as I helped Mom into bed. “I have auditions. I have producers to meet. I have to stay relevant and be seen at events. You understand, right? Right, Lottie?”
And I did. Because that’s what I always did—I understood while Barbara lived her life however she pleased.
I tried not to let her absence bother me. Instead, I focused on taking care of our mother while Barbara dropped in whenever she pleased, wearing designer clothes and showing off photos of her rubbing shoulders with celebrities.
“This is a glamorous life, Mom,” she once said as Mom lay in bed, too weak to eat. Then she turned to me with a smirk. “And you should really clean up your look, Lottie. You need to get noticed. Your posture is awful because you sit hunched in front of that computer all day.”
“It’s my job, Barbara,” I replied simply.
Life continued like that for months. Then one day, Mom was gone.
And that’s when Barbara came back.
And this time, she wasn’t grieving.
She was hunting for our mother’s money.
The Deception
After the funeral, we met with our mother’s lawyer, Alistair. Barbara sauntered in like she owned the place, dressed in all black but wearing diamond earrings I had never seen before. A bad feeling settled in my gut when she sat down with a smug smile.
The lawyer pulled out our mother’s official will, but before he could read it, Barbara pulled her first stunt.
She reached into her designer bag and pulled out an old, yellowed piece of paper. She slid it across the table to me with a sickly sweet smile.
“Before we get into all of that,” she said, “I have something interesting to share. Look what I found in Mom’s drawer while I was searching for her jewelry.”
I unfolded the paper, my hands trembling as my eyes scanned the words at the top.
ADOPTION DECREE.
My breath caught in my throat.
Barbara leaned back, smirking. “Well, well, well,” she drawled. “Looks like I finally know why you never looked like us.”
I re-read the document once. Twice. Three times.
“You… You’re lying,” I whispered. “This is fake. You must have gotten one of your shady friends to forge this.”
Barbara let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh, Charlotte, don’t be so paranoid. My friends have better things to do. The proof is right in front of you. You’re adopted. You’re not even Mom’s real daughter.”
My stomach twisted. My whole life… had been a lie?
Barbara crossed her arms. “So, despite what Mom’s will says about us splitting everything, I think it’s clear—you shouldn’t get a dime. You don’t belong in this family.”
The lawyer cleared his throat. “Ladies, let’s take a moment to think this through—”
But Barbara wasn’t done. “Alistair, I’ll be taking the entire estate. You can sort out the paperwork. Charlotte doesn’t deserve a penny.”
Something wasn’t right.
I took another look at the document and then noticed something Barbara had overlooked—the name on the adoption paperwork had been erased. Someone had deliberately tried to remove it.
And that? That made me suspicious.
The Truth Unfolds
I demanded a DNA test.
Barbara laughed. “What’s the point? We already know what it’ll say. You’re not family.”
“Then humor me,” I shot back. “If you’re so sure, then prove it.”
She rolled her eyes but agreed.
Days later, the results came in. And what we discovered shocked everyone.
Barbara… wasn’t biologically related to our mother.
I was.
I went straight to our Aunt Helen, my mother’s younger sister. When I told her about the DNA results, she sighed heavily.
“Your mother never wanted either of you to know,” she said, her eyes glistening with tears. “She knew how much it would hurt you both.”
“Know what?” I asked, my heart pounding.
Aunt Helen took a deep breath. “Barbara wasn’t your mother’s biological daughter. She found Barbara abandoned at a train station when she was two years old. She couldn’t bear to leave her there, so she took her in and raised her as her own.”
“Then the adoption decree—”
“She made it official through the courts a year later. She wanted to make sure no one could ever take Barbara away.”
I stared at my aunt, my mind spinning. My mother had spent her whole life protecting Barbara, loving her as her own.
And in return, Barbara had tried to erase me.
The Final Betrayal
When I told Barbara the truth, she laughed at first. But when I showed her the DNA test and relayed everything Aunt Helen had told me, her face went pale.
“No,” she whispered. “That’s not true. Mom loved me. She wouldn’t just… take in some abandoned kid!”
But she had. And she had loved her unconditionally.
And yet, Barbara had spent her entire life being the golden child, acting like she was the rightful heir.
Now? She was the one who lost everything.
The will was valid. Barbara’s attempt to erase me failed. In the end, she tried to take me to court.
And she lost.
I got everything.
She tried to destroy me. Instead, she destroyed herself.
And you know what?
She deserved every single bit of it.
