Page 81 of Never Been Gargoyled
That makes me angry. I deserve so much better than what you gave me. Gave me? You gave birth to me, but then you threw me away.
Well, I don’t need you. You can live your life without knowing what a successful person I’ve become despite your rejection. I have money, influence, connections. I don't need you in my life.
But I want you to know that when you die, it won’t be over. I'm going to claim everything you possess. The estate, the family history, all of it. You won’t be able to stop me.
A woman who no longer claims to be your daughter,Rebecca
My hands clenched around the paper. This wasn't the desperate plea of a loving daughter. This was a threat.
But why hadn't Helga responded? Why had she kept the letters but never answered them?
I found my answer in a doctor's report tucked behind the letters. A diagnosis of early-onset dementia, dated twenty-three years ago. Progressive memory loss, difficulty with communication, eventual need for full-time care.
Helga had been sick when Rebecca first started writing. By the time the letters became threatening, she probably hadn't been capable of understanding their full meaning.
She hadn't ignored her daughter out of cruelty. She'd been literally unable to respond.
I gathered all the documents and letters, my pulse surging up into my throat. This changed everything. A judge would see that Rebecca's letters grew increasingly hostile over time, culminating in what amounted to a threat against Helga's estate. They'd also see medicalevidence that Helga had been suffering from dementia during the latter part of Rebecca's attempts at contact.
It painted a very different picture than the one Rebecca's lawyers had presented.
I flew back to the cottage, my wings beating hard against the night air. Dazy was still asleep, curled on her side with one hand stretched across the space where I'd been lying.
“Dazy.” I shook her shoulder gently. “Wake up. I found them.”
She sat up slowly, blinking in confusion. “Found what?”
“Rebecca's letters. All of them. And medical records dating Helga’s dementia diagnosis.”
Her eyes went wide. “Where did you find them?”
“In a safe hidden behind a portrait in Helga's room.” I spread the documents across the bed. “Read this.”
I watched her face as she skimmed through the letters, saw hope kindle in her eyes as she understood what they meant.
“She threatened Helga,” Dazy whispered. “In the last letter. She said she'd claim the estate when Helga died.”
“And Helga couldn't respond to any of them. This doesn’t tell us why initially, but she hadn’t been diagnosed then, and she still didn’t respond. Later, she probably didn’t reply because she was showing signs of dementia.” I pointed to the medical records. “She clearly didn’t want contact with her daughter when she was of sound mind.”
“Will this be enough?”
“It should be. A judge will see that Rebecca's claims of being a loving daughter seeking connection don't match the evidence. These letters show someone who became increasingly hostile when she didn't get what she wanted.”
The courthouse was an imposingbrick building that made my wings itch. Dazy sat beside me at the plaintiff's table, wearing a pretty dress and gripping my hand hard enough to pinch.
Rebecca sat across the aisle with her team of expensive lawyers, looking confident and polished in a dark blue suit. She'd barely glanced in our direction since we'd arrived.
“All rise for the Honorable Judge Harrison.”
We stood as the judge entered, a stern woman in her sixties with steel-gray hair and sharp eyes that missed nothing.
“This is a hearing regarding the contested will of Helga Morrison,” Judge Harrison said after she’d settled behind the bench. “I've reviewed the initial filings from both parties. Mr. Kingsley, you may present your client's case.”
Rebecca's lawyer stood. “Your Honor, this is a simple matter of a biological daughter claiming her rightful inheritance. Ms. Hartwell has provided DNA evidence confirming her relationship to the deceased.”
He presented the same evidence we'd seen before—birth certificate, DNA results, adoption papers. But he conveniently left out the threatening tone of Rebecca's letters I’d presented to the court the morning after I found them.
“Ms. Morrison clearly intended to leave her estate to her biological daughter but was prevented from updating her will due to her declining mental state,” the lawyer concluded.
