When Dawn\u2019s father passed away, she lost everything\u2014her home, her family, and the sister who never truly cared about her. Kicked out with nothing but a few belongings and an old watch, she thought it was the end. But her father had seen it coming. Hidden within his final gift was a secret that would change everything\u2014one that determined who truly won in the end.\n\n\n\n

I always knew my sister, Charlotte, didn\u2019t care about me. But I never thought she\u2019d throw me out just two weeks after our father\u2019s funeral.\n\n\n\n

For as long as I could remember, it had been the three of us\u2014Dad, Charlotte, and me.\n\n\n\n

Charlotte, at thirty-five, had never really been part of the family. She lived in our father\u2019s house, but it was never her home. She was always out\u2014chasing parties, chasing friends, chasing what she called \u201cthe next big thing.\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m going to be great, Dawn,\u201d she used to say. \u201cI\u2019m meant for more. Not a small life where no one knows my name. One day, you might understand.\u201d\n\n\n\n

She treated our house like a crash pad, returning only when she needed money or a place to land.\n\n\n\n

I, on the other hand, was seventeen and had never known life outside those walls. I had been Dad\u2019s shadow, following him around as he fixed things, cooking dinner for him when he got home from work.\n\n\n\n

\u201cHome-cooked meals are the way to go, Dawn,\u201d he always said. \u201cNo matter how tired you are, always make something for yourself.\u201d\n\n\n\n

Charlotte never had those moments with him. She was eighteen when I was born\u2014already an adult, already pulling away. To her, I was an afterthought, an inconvenience.\n\n\n\n

She never read me bedtime stories. Never played games with me. When Dad took us out for ice cream, she barely glanced up from her phone.\n\n\n\n

Still, I believed, in some small way, she cared. That when it really mattered, she\u2019d be there.\n\n\n\n

Two weeks after the funeral, we sat in the lawyer\u2019s office. Charlotte barely looked sad\u2014if anything, she looked bored, checking her nails while waiting for the reading of the will.\n\n\n\n

My stomach twisted, but I said nothing. Why? Why would my father do this?\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd to you,\u201d the lawyer turned to me, \u201cyour father left this.\u201d\n\n\n\n

He handed me a small box. I knew what was inside before I even opened it.\n\n\n\n

Old, scratched, barely working\u2014but it had been a constant presence on his wrist.\n\n\n\n

\u201cSeriously? His watch?\u201d she laughed. \u201cEven dead, Dad still plays favorites.\u201d\n\n\n\n

I ignored her. My fingers traced the worn leather strap. It smelled like him. I didn\u2019t care about the house. I didn\u2019t care about the belongings. I just wanted my dad back.\n\n\n\n

For the next few days, I clung to routine\u2014school, work, home. I needed it, because without it, I\u2019d drown in grief.\n\n\n\n

Then, one night, I came home from my shift at the coffee shop and found my suitcases by the front door.\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis is it,\u201d she said. \u201cOur paths split here, Dawn. I need you to leave.\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou heard me,\u201d she said. \u201cThe house is mine. The lawyer said so. And I\u2019m done playing babysitter.\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cCharlotte,\u201d I whispered. \u201cI have nowhere else to go.\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot my problem,\u201d she said cheerfully. \u201cFigure it out.\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou should\u2019ve been nicer to me growing up, sis,\u201d she said. \u201cMaybe then, I\u2019d feel bad.\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cCharlotte kicked me out,\u201d I blurted the moment he answered. \u201cWhat do I do?\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can\u2019t believe it,\u201d he said. \u201cEverything is happening just as your father predicted. Come to my office tomorrow. I have something for you.\u201d\n\n\n\n

I spent the night at a bed and breakfast, courtesy of the lawyer, but I barely slept.\n\n\n\n

The next morning, I dragged myself to his office. He greeted me with a warm smile.\n\n\n\n

\u201cSit down, kid,\u201d he said. \u201cYou\u2019re going to want to be sitting for this.\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour father was a smart man, Dawn. He knew Charlotte would throw you out the moment she got control of the house.\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cSeven years ago, your father inherited nearly two million dollars. It came from a distant relative he had taken care of in her final years. He never told either of you, but he had his reasons.\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe split the money between you and Charlotte,\u201d Matthew continued.\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes\u2014but there\u2019s a catch. She only gets her portion if she shares the house with you.\u201d\n\n\n\n

I know Charlotte. I know what she\u2019ll do. But you are smarter than her\u2014you always have been. The money is in a safety deposit box. Use it wisely, my girl.\n\n\n\n

I turned Dad\u2019s watch over. Tiny scratches on the back\u2014four faint digits.\n\n\n\n

I laughed\u2014really laughed\u2014for the first time since he died.\n\n\n\n

Charlotte had the house, but she also had all the debt. And she had just kicked out the one person who could save her from losing everything.\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe lawyer called. The house has debt. A lot of it. If I don\u2019t pay it off, I lose everything.\u201d Her voice shook. \u201cAnd you\u2026 you have the money, don\u2019t you?\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cI might,\u201d I said. \u201cBut you kicked me out, remember?\u201d\n\n\n\n

\u201cI would have, Charlotte,\u201d I said. \u201cIf you had been nicer to me growing up. Maybe then, I\u2019d feel bad.\u201d\n\n\n\n

A few weeks later, I moved into a small studio apartment\u2014close to school, close to work, mine.\n\n\n\n

One evening, I passed by our old house. A SOLD sign stood in the yard.\n\n\n\n

But in a way, he was still looking out for me.\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"