“Yes,” I said. “If my daughter finds me repulsive, she doesn’t deserve my inheritance.”
Within ten days, every property was sold. I accepted fast offers below market value because speed mattered more than profit. I withdrew all my savings. By the end of the week, I had $910,000 in cashier’s checks and cash.
The night before I left, I sat with my grandchildren and held them close.
“Grandma might be going on a long trip,” I whispered.
They didn’t understand, but they hugged me tightly. Lily wasn’t home to see it.
The next morning, while she was at work, the movers came. I took only what belonged to me and left the rest behind—on purpose.
On the kitchen table, I left a single letter:
“Since my presence disgusts you, I’ve decided to give you exactly what you want. I sold everything. I left with every dollar I earned. You’ll never have to endure this ‘disgusting old woman’ again.”
That evening, I boarded a flight to Tampa, Florida, under a new identity arranged through my lawyer’s contacts. I rented a modest condo near the coast and opened a new bank account under my legal name: Margaret Ellis. For the first time in months, I could breathe without fear of being looked at with disgust.
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