At 20, I became a mother overnight. My sister vanished, leaving her toddler with nothing but a cruel note: “Take care of him.” For 12 years, I raised Jake as my own. He stopped asking for his mom and started calling me “Mom” instead. We built a life together—just the two of us.

Then, one morning, Olivia came back. Not to reunite. Not to apologize. She wanted money—her “share” of our father’s inheritance. When I refused, she coldly said Jake was “my choice” and demanded what she felt she was owed.