Chapter 6 - The Golden Child Sister Who Sold Out Her Own Blood for a Condo in Miami
At 6:30 AM, my phone began ringing violently on the bedside table.
I picked it up. It was my younger sister, Chloe.
Chloe was twenty-four, living in a luxury high-rise apartment in Miami, and had always been my parents' golden child. While I had worked forty hours a week through state college to graduate debt-free, Arthur and Wendy had paid for Chloe’s private university tuition, her European vacations, and her endless string of influencer business ventures.
"Ivan! What the hell is going on up there?!" Chloe screamed into the phone without even saying hello. "Mom just called me in tears! She said you and Grandma physically attacked Dad and threw them out on the street!"
I sat up, rubbing my eyes. "Chloe, Dad forged medical documents and dumped Grandma at an unaccredited nursing home so he could steal her land."
"That’s a complete lie!" Chloe shrieked. "Dad was trying to get her into an upscale wellness community! She’s eighty-two, Ivan, she belongs in assisted living! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Dad was supposed to wire my rent and my car payment this morning from the trust account, and now the bank says the account is frozen!"
The ugly truth laid bare in three sentences.
"So you knew," I said, my voice hardening. "You knew they were moving Grandma out today."
Silence hung on the line for two seconds.
"Dad said Grandma agreed to it," Chloe stammered, her voice losing a fraction of its bravado. "He said she wanted to downsize and that the land sale was going to fund my new marketing agency in South Beach. I’m family too, Ivan! Why should Grandma sit on all that money while we’re struggling?"
"Struggling?" I scoffed. "You’re living in a beachfront condo drinking ten-dollar lattes while Grandma was sitting on a cold lobby chair with a plastic bag of medication! If you want your rent paid, get a real job, Chloe. Don't call me again."
"If you don't make Grandma unfreeze that account, I’m getting a lawyer!" Chloe yelled. "Dad promised me that money!"
"Dad promised you stolen cash," I said coldly. "Tell your lawyer to call the Knox County Sheriff. They’re already opening a file on him."
I hung up and walked into the kitchen. Eleanor was already at the stove, frying eggs in cast iron with the smell of fresh black coffee filling the room.
"Was that your sister?" Eleanor asked without turning around.
"Yes."
"Did she demand her allowance?"
"Down to the penny."
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Eleanor flipped an egg with practiced ease. "When Harold and I started this farm, we had two cows, thirty acres of brush, and four hundred dollars in a rusty coffee can. We never asked anyone for a handout. It breaks my heart to see how soft and rotten Harold’s bloodline became in Arthur and Chloe. But at least you turned out with some iron in your spine."
She placed a plate of eggs and buttered toast in front of me. "Eat quickly, Ivan. We have an appointment at the regional bank in forty-five minutes."
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