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You have no right.
Fix this now.

That last one almost made me laugh.

People like Derek always discover urgency the moment the bill becomes theirs.

I let it ring.

I listened to the voicemails instead.

At first, Brooke tried anger. Then confusion. Then panic.

By the time they reached the front desk of their villa, reality had caught up with them.

Their card was declined.

The suite wasn’t released.

Derek’s backup card was already maxed out—flights, shopping, deposits.

And the account they were expecting to rely on? Frozen.

They were standing in Santorini, dressed for luxury, holding nothing but luggage and bad decisions.

Still, I didn’t answer.

I called Daniel instead.

He listened quietly while I explained everything. Asked for the messages. The screenshots. The confirmations.

Then he said, “This isn’t a misunderstanding, Hannah. This is attempted estate theft.”

Something inside me settled.

Because grief makes you hesitate. It makes you question whether you’re being too harsh, too suspicious.

But this wasn’t complicated.

Brooke had taken money meant for Grandma’s final expenses, for the house, for everything that still needed to be handled—and turned it into a vacation.

Eleven days after the funeral.

An hour later, she sent another message.

A photo this time.

The villa lobby. Derek arguing with a manager. Brooke standing off to the side, mascara running, both suitcases still unopened.

If you loved Grandma at all, you wouldn’t do this to me.

I stared at it.