The moment I saw my brother, Maverick, driving around in that bright red convertible, I knew something was up. I didn’t realize then that this flashy car was tied to a betrayal that would shake me to my core—and that it was all part of a plan my Gran had set in motion long before she passed away.
My name is Juniper. I’m 26 now, and I’ve been living out of state for four years. Honestly, moving away was the best decision I ever made. I had to escape my family and all the pain that came with them.
I never really felt like I was part of them anyway. My parents always favored my older brother, Maverick. He wasn’t just the favorite—he was the child. Everything revolved around him, and I was just… there. Gran used to joke that I was the “spare,” but she always said it with love in her voice, not like the rest of them.
That’s why I left. Well, that and Noel—my boyfriend. He convinced me that it was time to live for myself, to step out of the shadows my family had cast over me.
We packed up our little car and moved to the city, far away from my parents, Maverick, and all the memories.
“I just couldn’t stay there anymore, Noel,” I had told him over dinner once. I remember the way he smiled at me across the table, his hand reaching out to take mine.
“You don’t have to explain, June,” he said, squeezing my hand gently. “You did the right thing. You deserve more than being the second choice.”
After four years away, I hardly spoke to my family. The calls became less frequent, texts turned into a rare formality. My parents didn’t seem to care—they barely noticed. The only one who stayed in touch was Gran.
She was the one person who made me feel like I mattered. When I was younger, she’d sneak me chocolate when Mom wasn’t looking or call me late at night just to talk. She didn’t care if my day was boring or if I was feeling lost. She listened.
Then one day, I found out she’d passed away—accidentally. No one told me. I found out through Facebook, of all places. I was scrolling when I saw a post from an old family friend. There was Gran’s picture, a date, and the words “Rest in Peace.”
I couldn’t breathe. I stared at my phone, trying to make sense of it, but I couldn’t. It was like my heart had been ripped out of my chest.
I dropped my phone onto the table, stood up, and muttered, “Gran’s gone.”
Noel looked up from the couch. “What? What do you mean, she’s gone?”
“She’s dead. No one even told me.” Tears burned my eyes, but it wasn’t just sadness—it was anger and betrayal. “How could they not tell me?”
Noel was on his feet in a second, pulling me into a hug, but it didn’t make any sense. How could my parents not call me? Even Maverick? Not a word.
That night, I booked a flight home.
I didn’t care what it cost—I had to visit Gran’s grave and say goodbye, at least on my own terms. The next morning, I found myself walking through my hometown, the place I had fought so hard to leave behind. Everything looked the same… except for one shocking thing.
As I stood near the cemetery, something made my blood run cold. There, cruising down the street, was Maverick—in a shiny red convertible.
Maverick, who still worked as a cashier and could barely make ends meet, driving a car that probably cost more than everything he owned? My stomach churned. Something wasn’t right.
Later that day, I stood by Gran’s grave, the sound of rustling trees the only thing breaking the silence. The earth was fresh, and I couldn’t shake the knot in my stomach. Gran was really gone, and I hadn’t been able to say goodbye. It hurt even more because I found out through a stupid Facebook post.
As I knelt by her grave, I heard footsteps behind me. I looked up and saw Mr. Anderson, Gran’s best friend. He was an older man, always around to help her with anything she needed. His face was somber as he approached.
“Juniper, I’m so sorry,” he said softly, standing beside me. “Your Gran… she was a special lady.”
I swallowed, holding back tears. “She really was. I just wish I had more time with her.”
He nodded, looking distant for a moment. Then, as if remembering something, he turned to me. “Did you get the $20,000 she left you?”
I blinked. “The… what?”
Mr. Anderson looked confused. “Your Gran. She mentioned in her will that she set aside $20,000 for you. I thought you knew.”
My heart dropped. The image of Maverick in that red convertible flashed in my mind, and suddenly, everything clicked. I felt a surge of anger. “No,” I muttered, standing up. “I didn’t know.”
Mr. Anderson’s face went pale. “Oh, Juniper, I’m so sorry.”
But I wasn’t listening anymore. I had to get to Maverick’s trailer.
I stormed back to my car, my thoughts spinning. Maverick, who never held down a steady job, was driving a flashy car? And I didn’t think anything of it? Of course it was my money—the money Gran had left me. She was the only one who ever cared about me, and Maverick had stolen it without a second thought.
When I pulled up to Maverick’s trailer, I was ready for a confrontation. But then I saw something that stopped me in my tracks. In the driveway was the red convertible—completely wrecked. The front bumper was smashed, the windshield shattered, and the tires were flat. It looked like it had been in a serious accident.
And there, leaning in the doorway on crutches, was Maverick. His leg was in a cast, his face bruised and cut.
Karma had already caught up with him.
I walked up, shocked. “Maverick, what the hell happened?”
He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. “It’s… nothing.”
“Nothing?” I gestured at the totaled car. “That doesn’t look like nothing. What did you do? And why did you take Gran’s money, Maverick?”
He winced. “I didn’t mean for it to go like this, Juniper. I… I just 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 just borrow $20,000 that wasn’t left to you. Gran left that money to me, and you took it without a second thought. And now look at you. This is karma, Maverick.”
He hung his head. “I messed up, okay?”
“You always take everything,” I said, the anger rising in my voice. “Mom and Dad’s attention, their affection—everything was always about you. But this? This was from Gran. The one person who actually cared about me, and you stole it.”
Maverick didn’t have an answer. We stood there in silence, the weight of everything heavy between us. Just as I was about to leave, my phone buzzed. It was Mr. Clearwater, Gran’s lawyer.
“Juniper,” he said calmly. “There’s something you should 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 only part of it. The rest of her estate—her house, savings, investments—it’s all yours. She left everything to you.”
I couldn’t believe it. “Everything?”
“Yes, everything,” Mr. Clearwater confirmed. “She wanted to make sure you were taken care of.”
Tears welled up, but they weren’t just from sadness. Gran had known. Even in death, she had my back.
I looked at Maverick one last time. “I hope that convertible was worth it, Maverick. I hope you enjoyed the ride.”
“Juniper, I—” he started, but I cut him off.
“Don’t. I’m done.”
I turned and walked away, leaving him there, broken in more ways than one. For the first time, I didn’t feel like the forgotten sibling. Gran had made sure of that.
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