“Dad left me the Jeep,” Sam said, raising his glass. “Still runs, shockingly. Needs a new starter, maybe, but she’s a beast.” “You’re welcome,” Claire muttered. “What?” he asked, cupping his ear. “Nothing.” She turned her gaze back to the barn.
The will had been brutally clear: Sam got the Jeep and the house. Bryan got the boat and a sizable cut of the savings. Claire got the barn. Just the barn. No one argued. Not because it was fair—but because it made sense to them. Claire had been the golden child. Daddy’s girl.