When I knew that my parents had stolen my college fund to pay for my brother’s fee wedding, their house renovation, and business expenses, I was shattered. But they didn’t just steal my future. They caused a legal requirement that my great-aunt had cleverly hidden in her will.
Growing up, I always admired my great-aunt Martha. She was the only woman in our family who had broken tradition by confronting expectations, getting an education, and becoming a doctor.
“You remind me of myself,” she told me once. “That curiosity, that hunger to learn… don’t let anyone take that from you.”
“In our family,” my mother would often say, “women are meant to be wives and mothers, not scholars.”
But Aunt Martha disagreed.
“A woman with an education has choices,” she would explain. “And choices are freedom.”
So, before she passed away, she made sure to set up savings accounts for all her female relatives to fund their education.
But my parents do not think so.
They saw it as free money.
“It’s all in your name, Sophia,”
“Nearly $75,000 for your education. No one can touch it but you.”
“I’ll make you proud,” I promised.
“You already have, my dear.”
When she passed away a few months later, I cried deeply. But I held onto the promise of the future she’d gifted me.
For years, I worked hard in school, knowing I had a cushion for college.
After I had graduated high school, I was filled with hope. I wasn’t rich, but I had something priceless. A future.
I went to the bank, passionate to withdraw the funds my great-aunt had left for me to pay for my first semester.
Except… they were gone.
I sat in the bank, staring at the balance. $13,000. That was all that was left. I knew there had been more. Much more. Enough for my full education.
“There must be some mistake,” I told the bank teller. “There should be $75,000 in this account.”
My signature. But I hadn’t signed anything.
Confused and sick to my stomach, I went straight to my parents.
“Where’s all the money that Aunt Martha left for me?” I asked. “Who withdrew it from my account and why?”
“Oh, that?” my mother said, waving her hand dismissively. “We needed it.”
“Needed it for what?” I asked, my stomach twisting.
“Your brother’s wedding, the house, and we put some of it into the business. You should be grateful you got anything at all.”
I couldn’t speak.
“You were always smart,” my mother added with a sweet but condescending smile. “You’ll figure something out.”
“But…” My hands trembled. “This money wasn’t for you guys. It was for me. Aunt Martha left it for me!”
“It was for family,” my father snapped, now irritated.
“That money was specifically left to me for my education,” I said. “How did you even access it?”
My mother shrugged. “You signed the papers.”
“I never signed anything!”
“Don’t be dramatic,” she said.
“Remember those college registration forms we had you sign last year? And that financial planning paperwork for your future? We just needed your signature.”
That’s when I knew that they had tricked me.
My brother, James, who had been silent until now, walked into the kitchen and laughed.
“Relax,” he said, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl.
“You weren’t gonna use all that money anyway. What, you wanna be a scientist or something? What a waste. I actually did something useful with it.”
I looked at him and said.
“You think a wedding is more important than my future?”
He smirked. “I already have a wife and a house. What do you have? Debt?”
I didn’t answer and quietly left.
Fine, I thought. Let them talk.
“You’ve made a mistake,” James told me a few days later. “Family should stick together.”
“Funny,” I replied. “You didn’t care about family when you were spending my college fund on your honeymoon.”
I was angry, but I still hoped for an apology.
Then, I found something that changed everything.
I was going through Aunt Martha’s personal effects, which I’d stored away after her passing. As I went through the photos and letters, my gaze landed on an envelope labeled, “My Will.”
She had left a final clause that was about to turn my parents’ world upside down.
If not, a court case would follow.
I realized then that my parents and brother hadn’t just stolen from me.
“You stole my college fund,” I said calmly. “But it seems you didn’t read the will till the end.”
“What are you talking about?” My father asked, picking up the will to read it.
“This… this can’t be real,” he whispered.
“This is real!” I laughed. “You guys thought you’d steal my money and get away with it?”
“Dad just learned Aunt Martha left me some legal rights in case someone tried to use the money she left for me. I guess she knew you guys too well.”
When the lawyer told James that I could file a case against him and my parents, he chuckled.
“Come on,” James said. “You wouldn’t actually take your own family to court.”
“Why not?” I shot back. “You should’ve thought about it when you shamelessly spent my money on your luxurious wedding.”
“You can’t do this,” my mother pleaded. She was silently listening to our conversation all this time. “You’ll humiliate us!”
I just smiled.
“Should’ve thought of that before you robbed me.”
The moment they realized I wasn’t going to back down, they started complaining about how “heartless” I was and how I was “ripping the family apart.”
“Great!” I exclaimed. “Then let’s get a legally binding contract.”
His smile vanished. “What, you don’t trust your own brother?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Not after everything that’s happened, no.”
My lawyer cleared his throat. “My client is willing to settle this matter privately, but the full amount must be repaid first. Otherwise, we’ll be forced to proceed with litigation.”
“This is blackmail!” my father shouted.
“No,” my lawyer replied calmly. “This is justice.”
I hadn’t seen my family since the last meeting. Now, they’re scrambling to pay me back before it goes to court.
After all, I’ve learned that sometimes being family doesn’t mean letting people walk all over you. If my parents had just asked if they could borrow some money, explained their situation, and treated me with respect, I might have helped.
I loved them, after all.
