When my father-in-law, Leonard, passed, his will forced us to live together for a year—attending daily family dinners or losing the inheritance. To enforce it, he hired Mr. Morrison.
At first, dinners were tense, but soon secrets unraveled. My daughter Katie blurted, “Mom’s letters weren’t for Dad.” Then Evelyn, my mother-in-law, declared, “One of your children isn’t family. A DNA test will prove it.”
That night, I overheard Evelyn plotting with Morrison to expose my son Jack’s paternity and cut him from the will. I confronted her. “Take my share and leave, but no tests. Jack must never know.”
The next night, Evelyn smiled, pretending nothing had happened. Morrison stayed silent. She had won—but I had protected my family. Some truths are better left buried.