When my siblings and I arrived at our late grandfather’s cabin, we thought we were competing for his fortune. Little did we know, Grandpa Brooks had one last trick up his sleeve that would test our bonds in ways we never imagined.

The old cabin creaked and groaned as Michael, Olivia, and Emily stepped inside. The musty air stirred memories of childhood summers spent at Glass Lake.

“Well, this is charming,” Michael said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He ran a finger along a dusty shelf and grimaced. “Gramps really let the place go.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “It’s been empty for years, Michael. What did you expect?”

Emily, the youngest, opened a window. “Come on, guys. Let’s not start bickering already. We’re here for Grandpa A.E., remember?”

The siblings exchanged glances. They’d barely spoken in years, and now here they were, thrust together by their grandfather’s will.

As if on cue, a knock at the door announced the arrival of Mr. Whitmore, A.E. Brooks’ long-time attorney. The balding man entered, briefcase in hand.

“Good afternoon,” Whitmore said, his voice crisp and professional. “Shall we begin?”