My Greedy Cousin Accused Me Of Stealing My Grandma’s Jewels During The Will Reading. She Had No Idea I Was The One Who Set Up The Hidden Cameras 6 Months Ago. Who’s The Real Thief Now?

“Third graders, actually,” I replied, keeping my voice level.

“And of course I’m here. Grandma would want all of us together.” Wesley appeared at my side, his paint-stained fingers a stark contrast to the formal atmosphere.

“Ignore her, Mel. She’s just bitter because Grandma never fell for her fake charm offensive.” It was true; in the last 3 years after Grandpa passed, I’d been the only grandchild who regularly visited every Sunday without fail.

I’d drive over with groceries and spend hours helping Grandma navigate the modern world. I helped setting up her tablet, teaching her how to video call, organizing her medications, and simply sitting with her while she told stories about the bakery.

Veronica visited exactly twice a year, at Christmas and for Grandma’s birthday. She’d sweep in with expensive gifts, stay for precisely two hours, and leave with complaints about the drive from downtown.

Uncle Robert wasn’t much better, showing up occasionally to pressure Grandma about selling the house and moving into a nice assisted living facility. That would coincidentally free up her assets.

“Everyone, please take your seats,” Mr. Brennan announced, pulling out a thick folder and his laptop.

“We have quite a bit to cover today.” Aunt Priscilla rushed in, apologizing for being late while simultaneously live-streaming to her followers.

“Sorry everyone, traffic was insane. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get here from the suburbs.” She air-kissed Uncle Robert and positioned herself where the light was most flattering.

As we settled into our seats, I couldn’t help but notice how different the house felt without Grandma in it. The walls were lined with family photos spanning decades, from Grandma and Grandpa’s wedding to birthdays and holiday gatherings.

In recent photos, I appeared more and more frequently. I was usually helping Grandma with something or sitting beside her at the kitchen table, both of us covered in flour from attempting her famous recipes.

“Before Mr. Brennan begins,” Uncle Robert said, standing like he was addressing a board meeting.

“I think we should acknowledge that Mother’s final years were difficult. Her mind wasn’t what it used to be.” My mother tensed beside me.

“Robert, don’t you dare. Mama was sharp as a tack until the very end.”

“I’m just saying,” He continued, his car salesman’s smile not reaching his eyes.

“That certain influences might have affected her decision-making. Some people had more access than others, more opportunities to, shall we say, make an impression.” He wasn’t looking at me, but everyone knew exactly who he meant.

The accusation hung in the air like smoke. I felt my cheeks burn, remembering all those Sundays I’d spent here, not for any inheritance, but because I genuinely loved my grandmother.

She taught me to bake, told me stories about her childhood, and gave me advice about everything from teaching to relationships. Mr. Brennan cleared his throat again, his expression unreadable as he opened the will.

“Shall we begin with Dorothy Chen’s final wishes?” The room fell silent, everyone leaning forward slightly, ready to learn how Grandma had divided her earthly possessions.

None of us had any idea we were about to witness something far more valuable than money or property. We were about to see the truth.

The Reading of the Will and the Shocking Accusations

Mr. Brennan adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses and began reading in his measured, professional voice. “I, Dorothy Chen, being of sound mind and body, do hereby declare this to be my last will and testament.”

The formal language felt strange applied to Grandma, who once told me that legal documents were just fancy ways of saying simple things. But here we were, listening to her final wishes filtered through legal terminology.

“To my son Robert Chen, I leave my antique clock collection valued at approximately $30,000 and the sum of $25,000 to help with what I know are difficult business circumstances.” Uncle Robert shifted in his chair, his jaw tightening.

He’d probably expected more—much more. The clock collection was valuable, but everyone knew he’d been counting on enough money to save his struggling dealership.

“To my daughter-in-law Priscilla Chen, I leave my China set and $5,000 to pursue her creative endeavors.” Priscilla’s face fell so fast I almost felt sorry for her.

Five thousand wouldn’t even cover her monthly shopping sprees. Mr. Brennan continued with the bequests.

“To my grandson Wesley Chen, I leave my art collection and $30,000 to support his artistic journey on the condition that he promises to never give up on his dreams.” Wesley’s eyes widened.

Thirty thousand was more than he’d made in the last two years combined. He looked at me with surprise and genuine happiness.

“To my daughter Janet Chen, I leave my personal jewelry collection except for the pieces specified elsewhere and the sum of $50,000.” Mom gasped softly beside me, tears forming in her eyes.

The jewelry included Grandma’s wedding ring and the emerald brooch Grandpa had given her for their anniversary. Mr. Brennan turned his focus to Veronica.

“To my granddaughter Veronica Chen,” Mr. Brennan continued.

Veronica sat up straighter, her lips already forming a satisfied smile. “I leave the bronze butterfly brooch she always admired and the sum of $10,000.”

The smile vanished. “What? That’s it? A brooch and $10,000?”

Veronica’s voice pitched higher with each word. “This is insane!”

“Please allow me to continue,” Mr. Brennan said, holding up his hand.

“The remainder of my estate, including the house, all remaining financial assets, and the contents of my safety deposit box, I leave to—”

“Stop right there!” Veronica shot to her feet, her face flushed with anger.

“Before you say another word, there’s something everyone needs to know.” The room went silent, and even Priscilla stopped checking her phone.