On the very day my billionaire grandfather passed away, my family showed their true colors. Everyone was fighting over his estate. My dad couldn't stop them, so he dragged my mom and joined the chaos. When I arrived at the estate, Grandpa Charles was still lying on the bed. They hadn't even bothered to change his clothes. Some relatives were tearing each other's hair out over a luxury high-rise deed. Others were rolling on the floor, wrestling for his Rolls-Royce keys. This bunch of usually sophisticated, upper-class snobs was now fighting like animals at a Black Friday sale. My mom hugged a heavy metal safe and screamed at me. "Hailey. What are you standing there for? Take the diamond ring off your grandfather's finger." I rubbed my hands together and knelt beside the bed, ready to slide the ring off. But the moment I crouched down, I saw Grandpa's pinky finger twitch. I rubbed my eyes. Grandpa Charles's hand was completely still again. My heart did a flip. I didn't dare touch the ring anymore. Instead, I gently squeezed his finger. It was freezing cold. It didn't feel like a living person's hand at all. Just to be safe, I stood up and yelled over the noise, "Everyone, stop fighting! We need to get Grandpa to the hospital right now!" The shouting temporarily died down. My aunt, Mary, rolled her eyes at me. "Your grandfather was literally just discharged from the hospital to die at home. What hospital?" I hesitated. "What if... what if he's not actually dead?" My uncle, Mark, snatched a piece of paper and threw it right in my face. "He had terminal brain cancer, Hailey. He was going to kick the bucket sooner or later. Now that he's finally gone, why are you trying to ruin things with your bad vibes?" I picked up the death certificate and stared at it. It looked completely authentic. Did I really just hallucinate? Was Grandpa actually dead? Mark's wife, Chloe, curled her lips in disgust. "Dead is dead. But the old man didn't even leave a proper will! If he had, would we even need to be here tearing each other apart?" "My son, Leo, is the only grandson who carries the Miller name. Who else is the fortune supposed to go to?" Mary instantly lost her temper. "My son is also a boy! Why shouldn't he inherit? If anyone is disqualified from the family trust, it's Hailey!" She shot a venomous glare in my direction. "Hailey is going to marry some guy and change her last name anyway. She won't even be a Miller. Giving her a piece of jewelry or two is already more than generous." My mom went berserk. She lunged forward and shoved Mary. "Who the hell do you think you are, Mary? You married out and changed your name too! Charles loved my daughter the most when he was alive. If anyone deserves the lion's share, it's Hailey!" Seeing them about to claw each other's eyes out again, I covered my ears in sheer frustration and looked back at Grandpa. This time, I saw it clearly. His eyelid twitched. It absolutely wasn't an hallucination. Grandpa was alive! But why was he faking his death? My throat went dry. I swallowed hard and tugged at my mother's sleeve. "Mom, please, stop fighting. I don't want any of the inheritance, okay? Let them have it."
The room fell dead silent. Mark and Chloe exchanged looks and muttered under their breath, "What an idiot. Does Hailey even realize how much money Charles had? It's enough for three generations to burn through for a lifetime." Mary crossed her arms, sneering. "Oh, cut the saint act. If you really don't want the money, why don't you sign a waiver right now? Who are you trying to put on a show for? The corpse?" Actually, I was putting on a show for the "corpse." But honestly, I couldn't entirely blame my family for being so heartless. Grandpa had always been an incredibly eccentric man. He had built a multi-billion-dollar empire from scratch, dominating real estate, tech, and retail. Even the state governor had to treat him with utmost respect. By all accounts, with that kind of wealth, our family should have been living like royalty. But Grandpa was naturally paranoid and hyper-cautious. He always suspected everyone was trying to steal his money. When my dad got married and asked for help with a down payment on a house, Grandpa accused him of trying to carve up the family estate. He threw my dad out of the house after a massive screaming match. When Mary didn't get into college and wanted to open a small boutique, Grandpa mocked her relentlessly, saying she would just lose all his money. When Mark wanted to study abroad, Grandpa blasted him for being a spoiled brat who only wanted to squander his hard-earned cash. So, despite our patriarch being the richest man in the state, our three families lived on tight budgets, constantly pinching pennies. How could such a stingy, overly calculating man pass away without securing his fortune first? This fake death was a setup. He was testing us! My knees went weak, and I threw myself by his bedside, sobbing loudly. "What is wrong with all of you? Grandpa just passed away, and all you care about is dividing his money! Aren't you afraid of breaking his heart?" "Stop acting! If you're so noble, sign the waiver!" Mary clapped her hands, and Mr. Davis, Grandpa's senior estate lawyer, walked into the room, dressed in a sharp, expensive suit. "Mr. Davis, Hailey just said she wants to waive her inheritance rights!" Mary yelled eagerly. Mr. Davis looked at me. "Is this true, Miss Hailey Miller?" Before I could speak, my mom panicked and pinched my arm hard. "She's talking nonsense, Mr. Davis! My girl is just devastated by grief. She didn't mean it!" Mr. Davis nodded slowly. "Actually, before Mr. Charles Miller passed, he did leave a will." "And everyone in this room has a chance to inherit his entire estate."
The moment those words left his mouth, the bickering stopped. Everyone locked their eyes on the lawyer. Mark couldn't hold back. "Mr. Davis, stop beating around the bush! Tell us, did he leave everything to my son, Leo?" Mr. Davis calmly pulled a stamped document from his leather briefcase. The will was incredibly short, with only a few lines printed on it. "To my ungrateful descendants: If you can find my most precious possession within three days of my passing, you will inherit my entire estate." Everyone stared blankly for a few seconds. No one expected Grandpa's will to be so bizarre. Mary rolled her eyes. "Even in death, he has to be a pain in the ass. How the hell are we supposed to know what his 'most precious possession' is?" "Mr. Davis, can you at least give us a hint? He owned so many things. Where do we even start looking?" The others chimed in. "Yeah! Give us a clue!" Mr. Davis tapped his foot lightly. "His most precious possession is hidden right here, in this old family estate." "There is only one of it. Whoever finds it first will be the sole heir to the entire Miller fortune." The old estate had three floors, but Grandpa lived quite minimally. Mary's eyes suddenly lit up. She bolted toward the master bedroom. "I know what it is! It has to be that!" Though no one knew what she had realized, everyone immediately stormed after her like a pack of wolves. We watched as Mary reached into a secret compartment inside the nightstand and pulled out a yellowed land deed. She clutched it to her chest like a lifeline, looking at us defensively. "I found this first!" My dad stared at it for a moment, his eyes widening. "That's the original deed to this estate! How did you know it was there?" Mary smirked triumphantly. "Because Dad loved me the most, obviously. I saw him hide it there when I was a kid." "Mr. Davis, is this deed the most precious thing?" Mr. Davis simply offered a polite, enigmatic smile. He didn't say yes, and he didn't say no. "The truth will be revealed on the day of the funeral. Remember, each family can only submit one item." "But let me make this clear: if no one finds the correct item within three days, the entire Miller fortune will be donated to charity."
I gasped. Grandpa's net worth was easily over eight billion dollars. No one in their right mind would willingly let eight billion dollars slip through their fingers, especially when they were so close to it. Mary held the deed tighter, but a shadow of doubt crossed her face. This land deed had been passed down through generations. To fund his early business ventures, Grandpa had once mortgaged it. The very first thing he did after making his first million was buy this land back and build this estate. It was where my dad, Mark, and Mary grew up. It was undeniably sentimental. Mark and Chloe were green with envy. Still, Mark sneered, "Charles owned dozens of properties. Who knows if he even remembered this old paper?" "Come on, let's keep searching." My parents immediately joined the frantic treasure hunt. Seeing me standing frozen, my mom smacked my shoulder. "What are you doing? Search! Even if we don't sleep for three days, we have to find it!" I looked down at Grandpa, who was lying peacefully in his bed, playing dead. My mind raced. What on earth did Grandpa want us to find? I couldn't figure it out yet, so I could only follow my parents around to pretend I was searching. To find this "possession," Mark hired a top-tier private investigator. Mary literally brought in a celebrity psychic. My parents were desperately debating who they should hire. Finally, my mom snapped her fingers and called her father, Andrew. "Andrew and Charles used to be best friends back in the day. He might know what Charles valued most." But fearing her elderly father might get too emotional, my mom didn't tell him that Grandpa had "passed." She just asked casually over the phone. Andrew chuckled on the line. "What did Charles love most? Well, it had to be his late wife, of course. She's been gone for over thirty years now." "Why are you asking? Did your husband finally decide to kiss up to his old man?" My mom quickly made up an excuse and hung up. My parents decided to focus on things related to my late grandmother. Eventually, they actually managed to find their original engagement ring hidden deep inside Grandpa's pillowcase. Meanwhile, the other two families seemed to have found their own leads, but everyone kept their mouths shut, glaring at each other like enemies.
Three days later, the funeral was held at the local chapel. Grandpa's "body" was placed in a glass cooling casket. The funeral home staff had dressed him in a formal suit. My greedy relatives had spent the last three days hunting for treasure, not spending a single second mourning him. Of course, because of their neglect, nobody realized that Grandpa had been sneaking out of his casket late at night to eat snacks and use the restroom. The funeral was grand. All the men wore tailored black suits. The same people who were screaming at each other yesterday were now crying as if their hearts were breaking. Mary wept loudly, "Dad! How am I supposed to live without you?" Guests held her shoulders, comforting her. "He's in a better place now. Stay strong." As everyone sobbed, I stood there silently, not shedding a single tear. Once the tedious service concluded, the main event finally arrived. Holding the will, Mr. Davis stood before the gathered crowd of relatives and distinguished guests. "Today, we lay Mr. Charles Miller to rest. As per his final wishes, whichever of his three children presents his most precious possession will inherit his entire estate." Mary was the first to step forward, holding the yellowed deed. "My dad valued this land more than anything. Even though it's remote, he turned it into a premier resort. Someone once offered him a hundred million dollars for it, and he flat out refused!" "This is undoubtedly his most cherished possession!" Mary held the deed high, looking incredibly smug. It seemed her celebrity psychic had given her a massive dose of confidence. My mom whispered anxiously in my ear, "I heard your aunt's psychic supposedly channeled your grandpa, and he confirmed it's the deed! What if it really is?" I glanced toward the casket. Grandpa lay there perfectly still, looking incredibly dead. Mary had definitely been scammed. Grandpa wasn't even dead yet, so how could a psychic channel him? Sure enough, Mr. Davis examined the deed briefly, then shook his head. "This is not his most precious possession."
The smile on Mary's face froze. Her expression instantly distorted with rage. She dropped her elegant act and screamed, "Fuck you! Who are you to decide? I bet you're just trying to steal my dad's fortune for yourself!" Security guards quickly restrained her. Mr. Davis remained entirely unfazed. "Next." Mark nudged my dad's shoulder. "Jason, what do you think Dad's most precious thing is?" Before my dad could speak, my mom pinched his arm. "None of your business!" Mark rolled his eyes. "Keep your secrets then. We found it anyway!" Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out an old, beat-up car key. "This is what my dad cherished most." The key was ancient. It didn't belong to a Rolls-Royce or a Bentley, but to an old commercial truck. Mark explained proudly, "This key belonged to Charles's very first delivery truck. Decades ago, he was driving it to make a delivery when he got caught in a massive landslide. The truck was severely damaged, yet it miraculously kept running just long enough to get him to safety." "Since then, no matter how rich he got, he refused to sell it." "For forty years, that truck has sat in the family garage. He had it serviced regularly and even hired someone to drive it weekly just to keep the engine from rusting. He treated that truck better than his own sons!" It looked like Mark's private investigator had actually done some solid homework to dug up this piece of history. I looked at Grandpa again. His fingers seemed to twitch. Could it really be the truck key? My parents began to sweat. Everyone stared at the lawyer. Mr. Davis glanced at the key and said calmly, "This is not his most precious possession." Mark lost his mind. He lunged at Mr. Davis, sobbing. "How can it not be? My investigator swore it was! Mr. Davis, look, if you let me inherit, I'll give you half! Please! If I don't get this money, I'm ruined!" But Mr. Davis coldly brushed him off. Now, only our family was left. Everyone stared at the three of us, waiting for a trainwreck. If we couldn't produce the right item either, over eight billion dollars would go straight to charity! My dad took a deep breath, his hand trembling as he reached into his pocket. Was it really the engagement ring? I looked at my dad, then at Grandpa. Something didn't sit right with me. What did Grandpa truly value? Something he would fake his own death just to get us to understand. Suddenly, it hit me. I grabbed my dad's hand. "Dad, don't. I know what Grandpa's most precious possession is."
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