My Kids Kept My Husband’s $50 Million Fortune, While All I Got Was a Locked Phone That…

The Final Test and the Corporate Trap

I would not tell my children anything, not yet. Arthur had designed this as a test, a calculated revelation. I wanted to see just how far their greed would go.

The landlord knocked on my door again.

“Mrs. Morgan, time’s up. Either you pay now or I’m kicking you out today.”

“I need two more days, please.”

“Two days. Not one more.”

I decided to try one last time with my children. I took the bus to Michael’s office in the glittering financial district. The building was all glass and steel, imposing and cold.

“I’m Michael Morgan’s mother, I need to see him.”

The receptionist looked me up and down.

“Mr. Morgan is in meetings all day. I can leave him a message.”

“Please, just 5 minutes, it’s urgent.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, without an appointment I cannot let you go up.”

I waited in the lobby for 3 hours. Finally, Michael came out of the elevator laughing with two other men. I stood up quickly.

“Michael.”

The smile vanished from his face.

“Mom, what are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you, it’s important.”

He waited until the other men were gone.

“You have 2 minutes. Talk.”

“They’re going to evict me from the apartment; I do not have money for the rent. I need help.”

“We gave you money at the beginning.”

“It was not enough; it’s barely enough to eat and you all stopped sending more.”

“Because we felt you needed to learn how to manage your money.”

His voice was condescending.

“Michael, I’m your mother; how can you leave me on the street?”

“Dad made his decisions. If he left you just a phone, it was for a reason.”

“That phone…”

I stopped. I almost revealed everything right there.

“That phone is all I have left of him.”

“Exactly, so keep it as a memento and move on. Get a job. I do not know, clean houses or something. You’re 67 years old, not 100; you can still be useful.”

He checked his expensive watch.

“I have to go. Good luck with your situation.”

He turned and walked toward the glass door; he did not look back. I found a note taped to my door when I got back: final notice, pay tomorrow or legal action. I took out the phone and looked at the contacts icon.

There was a single number saved: no name, just a California area code. I pressed call.

“Hello, Eleanor, I’ve been waiting for your call.”

“Who… who is this?”

“My name is Antonio Garcia. I was Arthur’s best friend for 40 years. I am also his personal attorney.”

“Arthur asked me to wait for your call. He told me it would come exactly when you needed it most.”

“Every one of those properties has been generating income for years. There is currently about $6,300,000 in cash available in addition to the value of the properties.”

I had to sit on the mattress. 6 million in cash available.

“Why did Arthur not tell me anything? Why let me suffer like this?”

“Because he knew you better than anyone, Eleanor. He knew that if he told you while he was alive, you would insist that money be used for the children, for the family, for anyone but yourself.”

Antonio was right.

“I am transferring $10,000 to you tonight; use it to pay the back rent. It is not charity; it is yours.”

The next morning, I went to the landlord’s office and placed $2,000 in cash on his desk.

“Here is the back rent plus next month.”

I walked out with my head held high. Ten days before my birthday, I received an unexpected call from Mr. Evans.

“Mrs. Morgan, I need to see you, it’s urgent.”

I arrived at his office and found Michael, Caroline, and Daniel all there. They were looking at me with expressions of worry and guilt.

“Mrs. Morgan, I’ve called you here because a complicated situation has arisen. We have been auditing the finances of Morgan Properties and we have discovered certain irregularities.”

“Massive debts,” Michael interjected. “Debt that Dad hid in the corporate structure. Loans with sky-high interest rates. We are on the verge of bankruptcy.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because there may be certain assets in your name that could help resolve this crisis.”

“I have nothing,” I said simply. “You were there when the will was read. I received a phone; that’s all.”

“Did you manage to unlock it?” Michael leaned forward.

“Yes, I unlocked it. Old photographs, voicemails, memories. Nothing of monetary value.”

Michael ran his hands through his hair.

“Dad left us a rotten empire. Why would he do something like that?”

Caroline started to cry.

“I’m going to lose the mansion.”

Daniel looked sick.

“I sold two of the classic cars… now I find out those cars were collateral for a loan. I’m in serious legal trouble.”

“Your father left me a phone,” I said. “Do you really think he overlooked anything? You received everything; I received nothing. Those were his decisions.”

Daniel stood up.

“I’m sorry for everything. For how we treated you, for kicking you out of the house, for everything.”

It was an apology, finally, but it came only when they needed something.

“It’s okay, Daniel,” I lied.

I left that office feeling strangely light.