MY SISTER HID A WILL IN THE ATTIC SHED I NEVER KNEW EXISTED
Dust motes danced in the single sunbeam as I finally climbed the attic steps to the back shed area. I was only looking for Mom’s old Christmas ornaments, the ones with the faded glitter and chipped paint. The air up here felt thick, smelling faintly of mildew and something damp, almost earthy. I ran my hand along the rough wood paneling near the back wall, searching for a loose board Mom always mentioned.
Behind a forgotten trunk covered in cobwebs, my fingers finally found a small, invisible latch I’d never noticed. The tiny door creaked open slowly, revealing a dark space and a dusty metal box sitting inside. Beneath faded photographs tied with ribbon, was a thick envelope marked “LAST WILL” in Mom’s shaky hand.
My hands trembled violently as I pulled it out, the brittle paper crackling against my skin. It was Mom’s last will, dated just weeks before she died, leaving everything exclusively to me and *nothing* to my sister. “You actually thought hiding this would work?” I whispered out loud, the dusty air catching in my throat.
I stood there, frozen, sunlight slicing through the dust motes, the weight of the paper feeling impossibly heavy. This was absolute proof of years of calculated lies and deep deception laid bare. I felt a sudden chill despite the trapped heat.
Then I heard footsteps on the main attic stairs below me.
👇 *Full story continued in the comments…*My breath hitched. The footsteps weren’t heavy like a repairman’s, but lighter, familiar. It was my sister, Sarah. She’d obviously heard me rummaging around up here. Panic flared, hot and sharp, instantly eclipsing the shock of the discovery. What was I supposed to do? Shove the will back? Pretend I found nothing?
I gripped the envelope tighter, my knuckles white. There was no time to hide it, no time to compose myself. The footsteps reached the top of the stairs, and I heard the attic access door open. I turned slowly, the dusty air swirling around me.
Sarah stood in the doorway, squinting in the dim light. Her expression shifted from mild curiosity to confusion as she saw me standing by the back wall, near the forgotten corner. Her eyes then dropped to the thick envelope in my hand. Recognition flashed across her face, followed instantly by a look of pure, unadulterated horror. The color drained from her cheeks.
“What… what is that?” she stammered, her voice thin.
I didn’t answer immediately. I just held the will, letting the silence stretch between us, thick with years of unspoken truths and this unearthed lie. The sunbeam illuminating the dancing dust motes now seemed to spotlight the chasm that had opened between us.
Finally, I found my voice, though it was low and shaky. “It’s Mom’s will, Sarah.” I held it up slightly. “The one she wrote right before she died. The one you didn’t tell me about. The one you hid.”
Her eyes darted from the envelope to my face, then back to the corner where the tiny door to the shed was barely visible behind the trunk. Her carefully constructed facade crumbled in an instant. “No, that’s not… that’s not the only one,” she stumbled over the words, a desperate plea entering her voice. “There was an older one, split everything…”
“This one is dated weeks before she passed,” I interrupted, my voice gaining strength, though my heart was pounding. “It leaves everything to me. *Everything*, Sarah. Just to me.” The weight in my hand felt like a ton of bricks now, not just because of the inheritance, but because of the betrayal.
She took a step back, shaking her head. Tears welled in her eyes, not of remorse, but of being caught. “You weren’t… you weren’t around as much then! I was doing everything, taking care of her! It wasn’t fair!” she cried out, the carefully controlled calm she usually possessed completely shattered.
“So you hid the will? You planned to just… pretend this didn’t exist?” I asked, the incredulity and hurt making my voice crack. “You would steal Mom’s last wishes, steal from *me*?”
She didn’t answer, just stood there, cornered, her face a mask of defeat and raw exposure. The dusty attic air crackled with the tension between us. The hidden shed door was open, the will was in my hand, and the truth was finally, painfully, out in the open. This was the beginning of the end for the sisterhood we once knew.