“This says there are lithium deposits under this property worth tens of millions.”
“That’s right,” I said. “And Dad made me the sole owner. He trusted me with this. Not you, not Mom. Me.”
The silence that followed was so thick I could hear the clock ticking on the mantle. Mom looked stricken, her hands twisting in her lap. Megan’s face flushed red, anger boiling through her mask.
“You’re lying,” she spat. “You forged this.”
I slid the notarized deed across the table.
“Try again.”
She skimmed it, hands trembling, then shoved it back.
“You can’t do this. This isn’t just yours. It’s family property.”
“It was Dad’s property,” I said evenly. “And he gave it to me. He knew what you’d do if you got your hands on it. Sell it to the highest bidder, tear apart the land he and Rose swore to protect.”
Megan slammed her palm on the table.
“You don’t get it. This money could change everything. Our lives, our children’s lives. And you’re wasting it on some charity fantasy.”
I leaned forward, voice low and steady.
“Not a fantasy. A foundation. The Whitmore Veterans and Women Foundation. This land will build something lasting, something that helps people instead of lining your pockets.”
Mom gasped softly.
“A foundation?”
I looked at her.
“Yes. Housing, training, support for veterans and women left behind by families like ours. Dad believed in it. He prepared for it. And I’m making it real.”
Megan’s laugh was sharp, almost manic.
“You’re insane. Giving away millions to strangers when your own family needs it.”
I locked eyes with her.
“Family? The one who mocked me as a stinking woman. The one who kicked me out of Mom’s house like I was nothing. That family.”
Her jaw tightened. For once, she didn’t have a quick comeback.
I turned to Mom.
“And you? You sat silent. You let her treat me like garbage. And now you’re shocked Dad trusted me more. Respect goes both ways, Mom. You can’t demand it when you’ve never given it.”
Tears welled in her eyes.
“Hannah, I—”
Her voice broke, but Megan wasn’t done. She shot to her feet, pointing a manicured finger at me.
“You won’t get away with this. I’ll contest every document, every survey. I’ll drag you through court until you’re broke and begging.”
I stood too, meeting her glare head-on.
“Try me. Dad’s lawyer anticipated every move you’d make. The paperwork is locked tight. You’ll lose, Megan, and you’ll waste every dollar trying.”