“You aren’t the trustee?” he whispered, his face turning pale.

“No,” I said. “I am only a beneficiary, with restricted access to the interest payments starting in five years.”

“Five years?” Linda shrieked, standing up so fast her chair scraped loudly against the hardwood floor.

“And the principal cannot be touched,” I added. “Not by me, not by you, and certainly not by Ryan’s creditors.”

“Sophia, what have you done?” Ethan asked, staring at me as if I were a stranger.

“I protected my mother’s legacy,” I said.

The room fell completely silent, save for the low hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

Outside, a sudden gust of wind rattled the loose window pane in the dining room.

Linda gripped the back of her chair, her knuckles turning white.

“You selfish, ungrateful girl,” she hissed, her voice trembling with rage.

“Linda, sit down,” Ethan muttered, though his own eyes were wide with panic.

“No, Ethan!” Linda turned on him, her red lipstick smeared slightly at the corner of her mouth. “Do you realize what this means? Do you know what they will do to your brother?”