“You’re not really family, you’ve got no rights,” hissed Alice at her father’s funeral. She stood by the coffin, her voice dripping with venom. “So dont go expecting anything.”
Emma flinched as if shed been slapped. She clutched a bouquet of white roses, stunned by the cruelty. People murmured prayers around them, crossing themselves, while Alice glared with undisguised loathing.
“Alice, please, not here,” Emma whispered. “Dad hasnt even been buried yet.”
“Thats right*my* dad,” Alice snapped. “His real daughter. And who are you? Some orphan he took in out of pity.”
Emma laid the roses at the foot of the coffin and stepped back, her throat tight with tears. William lay in the white shirt shed picked out just yesterday, his hands folded, face peacefullike he was only sleeping. But hed never wake up, never say good morning, never ruffle her hair like he had for thirty years.
“Girls, whats this?” Auntie Margaret, their neighbour, hurried over. “Arguing at a funeralhave some respect.”
“Nobodys arguing,” Alice scoffed. “Just reminding certain people of their place.”
Auntie Margaret shook her head and walked off. Emma stood apart, suddenly feeling like a stranger among people shed known her whole lifeneighbours, Dads colleagues, distant relatives. All here to say goodbye, while she was made to feel she didnt belong beside his daughter.
“Em, you alright?” Her mate Sophie squeezed her arm.
“Thanks for coming,” Emma managed, hugging her.
“Whys Alice glaring at you like that?”
“She thinks I shouldnt be here.”
“What? You lived with your dad since you were five!”
Emma nodded, wiping her eyes. She remembered the day William brought her home from the childrens homea tall, kind man with a gravelly voice who smelled of pipe tobacco. Hed shown her a little room with a tiny bed and said, “This is yours now.”
“Emma, come here.” Alice beckoned sharply.
Bracing for another jab, Emma followedbut Alice suddenly hooked an arm through hers, steering her out of the chapel.
“We need to talk,” Alice said, once they were alone in the corridor.
“About what?”
“The will. You do realise the house and the cottage go to me, right? Im his only blood relative.”
Emma blinked. She hadnt even thought about moneyjust arranging the funeral, the wake, who to notify.
“Alice, can we do this later?”
“No. Lets settle it now. Dad didnt leave a will, so it goes by law. And the law says its for children and spouses. Youre neither.”
“But he adopted me. Ive got the papers.”
Alice smirked. “Out of charity. Now you think youll freeload off me? Take a house in central London?”
“I dont want the house,” Emma shot back. “Just his books. The photos. The rest is yours.”
“Oh, I bet. They all say thatthen run to court.”
Emmas chest burned. Thirty years in this family, calling William *Dad*, thinking of Alice as a sisteronly to be told she was just tolerated.
“Yknow what? I wont even argue,” Emma said quietly. “Do what you want. Just bury Dad properly.”
“Youre lecturing *me* on how to bury my own father?”
“Yes. Because *I* lived with him. *I* took care of him when he was illwhile you popped in once a month for half an hour.”
Alice flushed. “At least Im his *real* daughter. Youre just some care-home reject!”
The words hit harder than a punch. Emma turned and walked back to the chapel, where Williams coffin stood.
By morning, the rain drizzled over the cemetery. At the wakeheld in a pub Emma had scraped together money to bookAuntie Margaret reminisced: “Remember when William brought Emma home? Tiny thing, all wide-eyed. He picked her right up and said, Now Ive got two girls.”
Alice sneered. “Dad was soft like that.”
“He *loved* her,” argued Uncle Jack. “Same as you.”
Later, Alice cornered Emma by the loos. “Show me this will.”
Emma handed it over. William had split everything equallysigned a year ago, after his heart attack.
Alices face twisted. “Ill contest this. Prove he wasnt in his right mind.”
“Go ahead. But today, we bury him how *he* wanted.”
The next day, Emma found the locks changed at Dads house.
“You want your stuff? Get a solicitor,” Alice spat over the phone.
So she did. The lawyer said the will was solidbut court could drag on for years.
Walking home, Emma felt the weight of it all. A week ago, shed had a family. Now, just a fight over what William had left her.
But hed loved her. Chosen her. And for thatshed fight.
Because giving up would mean betraying the man whod given a lonely little girl a home.
