My Sister Mocked Me as “Another Man’s Mistake” on My Birthday, Then Gifted Me a DNA Test as a “Joke”…
she said, as if greeting someone irrelevant, but her eyes gleamed with expectation. She believed she had already won.
A Father’s Final Move
Mr. Dalton entered last, carrying a thick folder. He moved with the deliberate calm of someone who understood the weight of what he was about to unleash. When he reached the head of the table, he rested a hand on the folder and looked at each of us one by one.
“Before we begin,”
he said.
“I want to note that James Ellington left explicit instructions for how this reading should proceed. He anticipated complications. Everything I am about to share was prepared with full knowledge of circumstances that some of you may find surprising.”
Naomi shifted, her smirk faltering. Dalton opened the folder and began reading the will.
“I, James Robert Ellington, declare this my final will and testament. I leave 70% of my estate, including the family home, investment accounts, and assets, to my daughter Grace Ellington,”
he read. Silence snapped across the room like a whip. Naomi shot to her feet.
“She is not his daughter!”
she shouted.
“We have DNA proof! She has no legal—”
Dalton held up a hand.
“Please sit. There is more,”
he said. Reluctantly she did, though her jaw clenched so tightly I thought she might crack a tooth. Dalton continued reading.
“I have known since Grace was 2 years old that she is not my biological child. I chose to raise her anyway. I choose to leave her my legacy because she alone has proven worthy of it. This decision requires no further validation,”
the will stated. Naomi’s complexion drained to a pasty gray. Mom closed her eyes, pain tightening her features.
But Dalton wasn’t finished. Eight months before his death, Mr. Ellington hired a private investigator to document any attempts to manipulate or interfere with his estate. The investigator gathered substantial evidence.
He placed a stack of documents on the table—payments, withdrawals, bills, and meeting logs—demonstrating Naomi Ellington’s efforts to pressure her father into altering his will, including unauthorized withdrawals totaling $50,000 during his illness. Naomi’s attorney stiffened.
“We weren’t informed—”
he began. Dalton cut him off.
“You were not required to be. Additionally, the investigation documented consultations with three estate lawyers, conversations about upcoming changes to the family inheritance, and the purchase of a DNA test mailed to Naomi’s home address and gift wrapped,”
Dalton said. Naomi’s eyes widened.
“That’s ridiculous,”
she said, her voice shaking.
“That was a joke.”
The Weight of Consequences
Dalton set down the final document, a handwritten note in my father’s unmistakable script. Mr. Ellington requested that I read this aloud. He unfolded the page.
“Naomi, I know what you’ve been planning. I watched you try to manipulate your mother. I hoped you would choose differently. These consequences are your own doing,”
the note said. A sound escaped Naomi’s throat—part gasp, part growl. Her attorney leaned toward her.
“Do not contest this,”
he whispered harshly.
“There’s a no-contest clause. You will lose everything.”
But Naomi was spiraling.
“This is fraud!”
she spat.
“Grace manipulated him. She tricked a dying man.”
Sarah stood. Her voice was quiet but powerful.
“The will explicitly acknowledges Grace’s parentage and documents Mr. Ellington’s reasoning. Any contest would be frivolous and trigger the no-contest clause, including repayment of outstanding loans—approximately 200,000,”
Sarah said. Naomi’s face twisted.
“That’s not a loan! He gave me that money!”
she yelled.
“Not according to the estate records,”
Dalton replied calmly. Mom finally spoke, her voice a fragile whisper.
“Naomi, stop,”
she said. But Naomi couldn’t. Years of entitlement, bitterness, and fear collided all at once.
“This should be mine!”
she hissed.
“All of it! I’m the real daughter! I’m the one who stayed!”
I stood slowly, my voice steady.
