CHAPTER 6 — The Sister Who Was Never the Heir
The words stayed in my mind long after I left the trust administrator’s office.
Your sister is not who you think she is.
For the entire drive back to Chicago, those words followed me.
Every memory.
Every family dinner.
Every moment when Olivia stood beside my father and I stood alone.
Suddenly, I started questioning everything.
Was Olivia really the golden child?
Or had she simply been another piece on my father’s chessboard?
I had spent my entire life believing my sister was the person my father loved more.
But what if the truth was something far more complicated?
When I arrived at my apartment, there was already someone waiting outside my door.
Olivia.
I stopped walking.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
It was strange seeing her without an audience.
Without her perfect makeup.
Without the expensive dress.
Without the confidence she wore like armor.
She looked exhausted.
“Maya.”
Her voice was quieter than usual.
I unlocked the door.
“Why are you here?”
She swallowed.
“I need to talk to you.”
I almost walked past her.
The old me would have invited her inside immediately.
The old me would have tried to fix everything.
But the old me was tired.
“What about?”
She looked down.
“About yesterday.”
I opened the door.
“Come in.”
She entered slowly.
My apartment was completely different from the Bennett mansion.
Smaller.
Simpler.
But somehow, more alive.
There were books everywhere.
Technology prototypes.
Photos from university.
Awards.
Things that represented me.
Olivia looked around.
“You really did all of this yourself?”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
She sat down.
For the first time in years, she looked at me not with jealousy…
but with confusion.
“I thought Dad paid for everything.”
“I know.”
She looked away.
“I feel stupid.”
That surprised me.
Because Olivia Bennett rarely admitted weakness.
“Why?”
“Because I believed him.”
The honesty caught me off guard.
She took a deep breath.
“Dad always told me you were irresponsible.”
I said nothing.
“He said you wasted opportunities.”
She laughed bitterly.
“He said I was the one who understood what family meant.”
There it was.
The poison.
The story my father had created.
Not just for me.
For her too.
“He made you believe you were better than me.”
Her eyes filled slightly.
“He made me believe I had to be.”
Silence filled the room.
Then I asked:
“Do you know about Grandma’s trust?”
Her face changed.
“No.”
I watched carefully.
She wasn’t pretending.
She genuinely didn’t know.
“She left something for both of us.”
Olivia frowned.
“What?”
I hesitated.
Then I showed her the document.
Her eyes moved across the page.
And then stopped.
Her name.
Her inheritance.
Her hands began shaking.
“She remembered me?”
The question was so quiet I almost missed it.
I stared at her.
“What do you mean?”
Olivia looked away.
“Everyone talks about Grandma like she loved you more.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“She always defended you.”
Her voice cracked.
“I thought she hated me.”
That surprised me.
Because I had never considered that.
Olivia was always the favorite.
The beautiful daughter.
The successful daughter.
The daughter everyone celebrated.
But maybe…
She had been trapped too.
Before I could respond, my phone rang.
The trust administrator.
I answered immediately.
“Hello?”
Her voice sounded serious.
“Ms. Bennett, there is something else you need to know.”
“What happened?”
“The second document your grandmother left has been opened.”
My heart started racing.
“What document?”
A pause.
Then:
“Your grandmother requested that both you and Olivia be present.”
I looked at my sister.
She looked back at me.
“What is it?”
I didn’t know.
But somehow, I already felt it was going to change everything.
Two hours later, Olivia and I sat together in the same office.
For the first time in our lives…
we were on the same side.
The trust administrator placed an old file on the table.
“This was written by Eleanor Bennett six months before her death.”
She looked at both of us.
“She wanted both granddaughters to hear the truth together.”
Olivia reached for my hand.
I almost pulled away.
Not because I hated her.
Because I wasn’t used to her being kind.
The administrator opened the file.
Inside was a letter.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
My beautiful girls,
I felt my chest tighten.
Both of us stared.
If you are reading this, then the two people I loved most have finally discovered the truth.
The administrator continued reading.
Maya, you were never the difficult child.
My eyes burned.
You were the child who questioned things. You saw injustice before others did.
Then:
Olivia, you were never the perfect child.
My sister froze.
The words hurt her.
But Grandma continued.
You were a child who desperately wanted approval. And your father used that love against you.
Olivia covered her mouth.
A tear rolled down her cheek.
I looked at her.
For the first time, I saw something I had never noticed before.
Pain.
Not arrogance.
Pain.
The letter continued.
Your father created competition between you because divided children are easier to control.
My breathing stopped.
Because that sentence explained everything.
The comparisons.
The jealousy.
The constant fighting.
He had created the war.
Then he convinced us we were enemies.
The administrator turned the page.
“There is one more section.”
She looked uncomfortable.
“What?”
She read:
Richard Bennett is not the rightful owner of Bennett Holdings.
My eyes widened.
“What?”
Olivia looked confused.
“But Dad runs the company.”
The administrator nodded.
“Yes.”
She turned the page.
“And your grandmother discovered something before her death.”
“What?”
The woman looked at us.
“Richard Bennett transferred company assets into offshore accounts.”
My stomach dropped.
“He stole from the company?”
“Not only that.”
She placed another document down.
“He used Olivia’s name as a beneficiary.”
My sister went pale.
“What?”
The administrator looked at her.
“Your father placed certain assets under your name.”
Olivia stared.
“Why?”
The answer came quietly.
“Because if those assets were discovered, he wanted someone else to take the blame.”
The room went silent.
My sister looked like she had been physically hit.
“My whole life…”
Her voice broke.
“I thought I was the daughter he trusted.”
I looked at her.
“You were the daughter he could control.”
The truth hurt.
But it was the truth.
That night, Olivia didn’t go home.
She stayed in my apartment.
We sat by the window watching Chicago’s lights.
Two sisters.
Two women who had spent decades fighting a war neither of us started.
Finally, she spoke.
“Maya.”
“Yes?”
“I owe you an apology.”
I looked at her.
“For what?”
“For making you feel alone.”
The words surprised me.
She wiped her eyes.
“I spent years trying to be Dad’s favorite.”
A pause.
“But I never realized being his favorite meant losing myself.”
I looked out at the city.
“I hated you.”
She nodded.
“I know.”
“But I don’t think I hated you.”
I turned toward her.
“I hated the way he made us see each other.”
For the first time…
Olivia smiled.
A real smile.
Not the one she wore at weddings.
Not the one she used for appearances.
A real one.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message.
From Ethan.
I found the final piece of evidence.
I opened it.
The next message appeared.
Your father didn’t just betray William Cross.
Another message.
He betrayed someone much closer.
I looked at Olivia.
Then back at the phone.
May you like
The final message appeared.
Your mother knows everything.
