“You’ve got no rights hereyou’re not even family,” hissed Alice at her father’s funeral.
Standing by the coffin, Alice glared at Vera with undisguised contempt. “Youre nothing to him, so dont expect anything.”
Vera flinched as if slapped. Clutching a bouquet of white roses, she could hardly believe Alices cruelty. Mourners whispered prayers, crossed themselves, but Alices hatred burned brighter than any candle.
“Not here, Alice,” Vera murmured. “Please, Dads not even buried yet.”
“My dad,” Alice snapped. “My blood. And you? Just some pity case he took in.”
Vera laid the roses by the coffins head and stepped back, throat tight, eyes stinging. Edward Whitmore lay still in the white shirt shed bought him just days ago. Hands folded, face peacefulas if asleep. But hed never wake, never say good morning, never pat her head like he had for thirty years.
“Ladies, whats this?” Aunt Margaret, their neighbour, frowned. “Arguing at a funeral? Have some decency.”
“Nobodys arguing,” Alice scoffed. “Just reminding certain people of their place.”
Margaret shook her head and walked away. Vera stood apart, feeling like a stranger among those shed known her whole life. Neighbours, Dads colleagues, distant relativesall here to say goodbye, while she suddenly wondered if she even had the right to stand beside his daughter.
“Vera, love, how are you holding up?” Her friend Sophie squeezed her arm.
“Thanks for coming,” Vera whispered, hugging her.
“Whys Alice glaring like youre the enemy?”
“She thinks I shouldnt be here.”
“Rubbish! You lived with your dad since you were five!”
Vera nodded, wiping her eyes. She remembered Edwardtall, kind, smelling of pipe tobaccobringing her home from the orphanage. Hed shown her a little room with a childs bed and said, “This is yours now.”
“Vera, come here,” Alice called abruptly.
Expecting another jab, Vera followedbut Alice yanked her into the mortuary hallway.
“We need to talk. About the will.” Alices voice was icy. “You understand the house and the cottage go to me, yes? Im his real daughter.”
Vera blinked. She hadnt even thought of inheritanceonly of burying Dad, arranging the wake.
“Alice, cant this wait?”
“No. I wont have misunderstandings later. No will means it goes to next of kin. And youre neither wife nor blood.”
“But he adopted meI have the papers!”
Alice sneered. “Out of pity. Now you expect half his estate? The London house?”
“I dont want anything! Just his books, his photostake the rest!”
“Like Id believe that. Youll sue me within the month.”
Fury rose in Veras chest. Thirty years in this family, calling Edward “Dad,” considering Alice her sisteronly to be dismissed as a charity case.
“You know what?” Vera said quietly. “I wont argue. Bury him properly. Thats all I ask.”
“Youll tell me how to mourn my own father?”
“I will. Because I lived with him. I cared for him when he was ill. You visited once a month for half an hour.”
Alice flushed. “Im his blood! Youre just some orphan he dragged home!”
The words cut deeper than any blow. Vera turned and walked back to the coffin.
Later, at the wake, stories flowedhow Edward, an engineer, had brought Vera home, how hed doted on her. “Remember when she had pneumonia?” Aunt Margaret said. “He barely slept, nursing her night and day.”
Alice scoffed. “Dad was soft-hearted. Took in strays.”
“He loved her,” argued Uncle Jack. “Same as you.”
Vera wept silently. Edward had never treated her as less. Paid for school, walked her down the aisleeven gifted her the cottage when she married. (Alice had raged, but hed stood firm: “Youve got your own, Sophies starting fresh.”)
The marriage failed, the cottage soldbut Edwards love never wavered.
After the wake, Alice cornered Vera. “Show me this will.”
Vera handed it overEdwards signature, a notarys seal. The estate split evenly.
Alices face darkened. “Ill contest this. Prove he wasnt in his right mind.”
“Alice, stop. He wanted this.”
“The house is mine!” Alice spat. “Ill change the locks tonight.”
Vera stared. “My things are still there!”
“Pack them yourselfor sue me.”
The legal battle loomed, but Vera wouldnt back down. Edward had chosen to love her. Shed fight for that loveeven if it meant standing alone.
Because blood or not, she was his daughter. And no one could take that away.
