My sister threw me out of the house after our father died – but she didn’t know that he had foreseen it.

“Will she get a share too?” I said slowly, my heart sinking.

“Yes, Dawn. But there’s one condition. Charlotte has to share the house equally with you.”

I sat up straight. Suddenly, there seemed to be a way out of this mess.

“If your sister refuses, she gets absolutely nothing.”

“There’s more,” he continued. “Your father left you this.”

He slid a letter across the table to me.

It was my father’s handwriting.

Dawn, my darling,

I know Charlotte, love. I know what she’ll do. But you’re smarter than she is. You always have been. The money is in the safe deposit box. Use it wisely, my girl.

I love you more than anything.

—Dad

I stared at the bank account details.

“I don’t know the code for the safe deposit box,” I whispered.

The lawyer smiled.

“The watch,” he said simply.

I took Dad’s watch off my wrist and turned it over. There were tiny scratches on the back. Four numbers, faint, but legible.

A code!

Matthew grinned.

“Your father was a genius, Dawn.”

I laughed, really laughed, for the first time since he died.

Charlotte owned the house, but she also owned the debts. And she had just thrown out the only person who could have saved her from total ruin.

A few days later, I was still staying at the bed and breakfast when Charlotte called. I let it ring and got a glass of water.

Then I picked it up.

“Hello?” I said politely.

“You knew, didn’t you?” she spat.

“Knew what?” I asked.

“The house,” she snapped. “The lawyer just called. There are debts. A lot. Thousands of dollars. If they aren’t paid, the house will be foreclosed on, Dawn. And you…” She exhaled, trembling. “You have the money, right?”

I turned my father’s watch on my wrist.

“I might have the money…” I said. “But we don’t exactly have a good history together, do we? You’re the one who kicked me out.”

She was silent.

“You have to help me!” she finally said.

I smiled.

“I would have helped you, Charlotte,” I said. “If you’d been nicer to me when I was a kid, sis. Maybe I’d feel bad about it then.”

Then I hung up.

Matthew helped me find a furnished apartment.

“Something small would be perfect,” he said. “You have a few months before you start college, Dawn. You don’t have to commit to a big house. An apartment is ideal. And soon you’ll be eighteen, then you can do whatever you want. Right now, you need to focus on school.”

“Thank you so much for your help,” I said. “I would have been lost without you.”

“Dawn, your father told me all about you and how difficult your sister made your life, especially after your mother left. I promised your father I would help you get back on your feet.”

A few weeks later, I was in my small studio apartment in an artsy neighborhood in the city. And I loved it.

I don’t know what happened to Charlotte, but one evening, as I walked past our house, I saw a “Sold” sign. I suppose I should have felt bad, but I didn’t. Without my father, it wasn’t home anymore.

And at least he was still looking after me, even if only through Matthew.

See continuation on the next page.