This story is unavailable.

Oh, Ingrid, this whole thing is terrible and despicable. Blood is thicker than water, but thick skin beats it, huh? Good thing you’re a tough woman and it didn’t phase you in the end. After our parents died, we made joint inheritance deeds. It never crossed my mind to hand over anything to him. I don’t know how things are in your country, but here in case one dies and no will or specific inheritance assignment is made beforehand, all property automatically goes to the next of kin, and everything is divided equally if there are several kin irrespective of age or gender. Anyway, we have to stick together, as we still have to fight the state for some two hectares of forest land that we’re yet to retrieve. Both our parents' families couldn’t get back a lot of property that the communists took from them and that they wanted back after communism fell but couldn’t, because documents and archives had been conveniently ‘lost’ or ‘accidentally’ destroyed along the 45 years of communism. You’re right, there is no room for reconciliation for you and your brother. I would have felt and done the same. I can never forgive because I can never forget. Also, I’ve never blindly trusted any man -that’s why I never married (‘cause what’s the point?)- not even my brother, and like you, I’ve been through enough from a young age and witnessed a lot to know better. It doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t come through for him if such really were the case, but I’ve learnt not to be sure of anyone and take everything with a pinch of salt. Better safe than sorry, though this principle didn’t always work and horribly failed to protect me a few crucial times.

A single golf clap? Or a long standing ovation?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.