Riley added, "But Hassan is your eldest son. How could you bear to give his inheritance to an outsider?"
I responded coldly, "I am still alive. It's my property!"
Riley's eyes darted around, and then she smiled and put her arm around my shoulders.
"Kenya, you love your grandson the most. What's yours is Hassan's anyway, and eventually, it will all belong to your grandson."
Looking at Hassan, who remained silent, his head lowered while smoking, I felt my heart turn cold.
His silence said it all. He was thinking the same thing. Riley was just acting as his spokesperson.
Anger surged through me. My assets were not for anyone else to divide.
I would decide how to distribute them.
Their appetite for everything was just too much.
I stated that the assets would remain with me for now.
When I passed away, each of my children would receive half. I would ensure fairness.
There was a reason for my decision.
I loved both of my children. I had my pension, so they didn't need to spend money on me.
If I fell ill, they could take turns looking after me if they were available. If not, I would hire a caregiver.
So, I believed that dividing everything equally was fair.
Riley's expression suddenly changed, and her tone became impatient.
"Hassan is your only son. You cannot divide the house and money with anyone else."
Finally, Hassan stepped in and told her to stop talking.
Riley flew into a rage. "I'm only doing this for your good. A man like you has no skills, yet you can fight for what's rightfully yours. If you don't push for it now, you'll end up with nothing!"
She then turned her sharp gaze to me. "Kenya, let me make this clear. You have a son and a grandson. If you decide to give away your property to Gracie, don't blame us for not recognizing you as part of the family anymore."
Before she could finish her tirade, I threw the whole family out the door.
As if I'd be scared of not being called Mom? I just didn't even care.
Riley, however, was not ready to give up.
A few days later, she came by again. This time, she did not mention anything about the house.
As soon as she entered, she busied herself around the house. I sat on the couch, watching her flit around, feeling more awkward by the minute.
Once she finished, she sat beside me and started chatting.
She expressed sympathy for how hard I had worked all these years, how much I had overexerted myself, and how it pained her to see me like this.