I was scrolling through Reddit when a post from a legal advice forum caught my eye. It was from my cousin, Ashley, who lives with us. [How do I prevent a manipulative cousin from inheriting my parents' money?] I was confused. Her family lives in a double-wide trailer in Ohio. Why would she think I’d want a piece of that? The comments were what you’d expect: reassuring her that a cousin has no legal claim, that she was worrying over nothing. But then she replied, a little too eagerly: [Are you sure? I mean, we're first cousins, practically sisters. That’s not a total stranger, legally speaking. Nothing’s ever 100%, right?] And just like that, I understood. The person trying to inherit someone else's money… was her. 1 Reading the full post from my cousin’s burner account was a gut punch. [I’m an only child (24F). My dad is in international real estate, and my mom is a partner at her firm. We’re in the nine-figure club, so my inheritance is more than enough for several lifetimes.] [The problem is my cousin (23F). She’s lived with us for years. She’s smarter than me, more successful… basically the daughter every parent dreams of. My mom adores her, honestly more than she seems to adore me.] [How do I stop this cousin, who is a huge threat to me, from getting her hands on my family's estate?] My head was spinning. The family background she was describing was obviously mine. And the "smarter, more successful, more loved" cousin she was pretending to be… was me. She was posting as me to get advice on how she could screw me over. The comment section was a mix of legal advice and common sense: > [OP, you’re probably young. A cousin has zero inheritance rights unless they are specifically named in a will. Relax.] > [Your first priority should be getting her out of your house. She's freeloading on your family's resources. The inheritance isn't a real issue.] But Ashley’s replies were frantic: > [Are you sure? I mean, we’re first cousins, practically sisters. That’s not a total stranger, legally speaking. Nothing’s ever 100%, right?] The commenters were getting annoyed: > [Are you trolling or just legally illiterate? Your parents’ assets have nothing to do with your cousin. This is textbook paranoia.] > [Yeah, the only way is if your parents write her into the will. The chances of that are basically zero.] Ashley kept pushing: > [A will is unlikely. My mom might, but my dad never would. There’s no blood relation. Are there any other ways? Loopholes?] Then, someone posted the comment that changed everything: > [Theoretically, it's not impossible. In extreme cases, there's a concept called 'heir by proxy' or per stirpes distribution…] Ashley replied instantly: [OMG tell me more! I’m DMing you, please accept. This is urgent.] The thread quickly turned on her: > [Wait a second… it feels like you're desperately trying to find a way for your cousin to inherit the money.] > [LOL, busted. You’re the cousin, aren’t you?] 2 Across the dinner table, Ashley angrily locked her phone and slammed it face down. My mom finally looked up from her own phone, tapping the table. "Chloe, can you put that away? Look at your cousin. Ashley knows that dinnertime is for family." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "You never FaceTime me when you’re at school," she continued, her voice layered with guilt. "You’re finally home for the summer. Can't you just be present? Once Ashley leaves for college next year, how many of these family dinners will we have left?" It was just the three of us at a massive ten-person table. Some "family dinner." Ashley immediately softened her expression, turning to my mom with a syrupy sweet smile. "Oh, Aunt Linda, Chloe and I are different. When I’m in Europe, I’ll be calling you every single day. You’ll probably get sick of me." She shot a smug look in my direction. "I mean, it’s just undergrad. How busy can you be? If someone doesn't have time for a single call, it’s because they don’t want to make time." 3 She was right. I rarely called my mom. She shipped me off to boarding school in the first grade and had me studying abroad before I was even eighteen. We saw each other a few times a year. We weren't close. Beyond a quick "I'm alive and well," I never knew what to say to her. Ashley was a different story. Ever since my uncle had another kid—a boy, of course—my mom brought Ashley, then a senior in high school, to live with us. Since then, this house had been filled with their laughter and inside jokes. Maybe I’m just emotionally detached, but their closeness never really bothered me. My mom supported me financially, giving me the freedom to pursue my master’s at an Ivy League school without worrying about loans. So I didn't care that she gave Ashley the warmth and attention she never gave me. I didn't even mind that she was footing the bill for Ashley’s entire life, including her new plan to study abroad. As long as it didn’t affect me, I figured it was her money. If Ashley could keep my mom happy, fine. I was even okay with her getting a nice chunk of cash to start her life. But now, seeing that post, I knew she wasn’t satisfied with a few hundred thousand. She wanted it all. A comment from that thread echoed in my head: Your first priority should be getting her out of your house. Damn right. This greedy parasite had to go. And she wasn't getting another dime. 4 I casually took a bite of asparagus. "Oh, by the way, Mom. You asked me to look into the university Ashley got into. I did." I paused for effect. "It's a diploma mill. An unaccredited online university with a fancy name. Her degree won't be worth the paper it's printed on. That eighty-thousand-dollar tuition? You might as well just set it on fire." My mom froze, a forkful of salmon halfway to her mouth. She shook her head with a weary smile. "Chloe, Chloe. Is this really necessary? Ashley is finally following in your footsteps, trying to better herself. Can't you just be happy for her?" The story was this: Ashley heard I was starting my master's program on a full scholarship. The very next day, she quit the preschool teacher job my mom had pulled strings to get her and demanded to be sent abroad, too. She found some shady international admissions agent who, for a hefty fee, got her "accepted" to a dozen garbage schools. From that pile of worthless offers, she picked the one that happened to be in the same city as my university. My mom, clueless, was bursting with pride. She threw Ashley a huge "going away" party, telling all her friends how, with the right support, girls could be just as successful as boys. I didn't have the heart to burst her bubble then. But things were different now. The truth was better for everyone. 5 Ashley’s usual smirk vanished, replaced by a flash of anger. She scrambled for her phone, pulling up the school's homepage. "Look with your own eyes!" she spat. "It says right here, this is a centuries-old institution, a sister school to Harvard! It's located right in the heart of America's capital, New York City, and has produced five First Ladies! It's the top choice for socialites! What do you know, anyway?" I couldn't help but laugh. I turned to my mom. "Mom, what's the capital of the United States? Do you know?" Ashley rolled her eyes, slapping her forehead dramatically. "Chloe, are you for real? Your school is in New York. You don't know where the capital is? Oh my god!" My mother, at least, wasn't that ignorant. Her eyes widened as she snatched the phone, reading the poorly translated English description out loud. Her face was a mask of pure shock and embarrassment. 6 My mom, who had always trusted Ashley implicitly, was furious. She was mortified that Ashley had been so careless and, frankly, so stupid. She immediately contacted a legitimate educational consultant to come up with a real plan. The trip to the fake university was off. But with Ashley's terrible high school grades and abysmal test scores, the consultant said it would take at least a year of hard work at a community college to even have a chance at a decent four-year school. Ashley stomped her foot, her eyes burning with a hatred so intense it was almost shocking. But this time, it wasn't directed at me. It was directed at my mother's retreating back as she rushed off to make calls on Ashley’s behalf. 7 Back in my room, I refreshed the Reddit thread. Ashley was spamming the user who mentioned "heir by proxy." > [Hello? Are you there? This is an emergency, can you please reply?] > [Hey!! Anyone home? I can’t DM you anymore, you didn’t accept my friend request. Is anyone even alive on this site?!] She was panicking. I logged into my burner account and sent her a private message. [Hi there. I’m a paralegal student specializing in family law and estate planning. I saw your post. My family has a leech of a relative too, so I completely understand your situation. Happy to offer a free consultation if you need to talk.] She replied in seconds. No greeting, no pleasantries. [Can my cousin really inherit my parents' money? Does it have to happen after they die? How does it work?] She quickly backpedaled. [I mean, I need to know so I can warn my parents. To protect our assets.] I sent a smiley face emoji and deliberately let her stew for a while. My phone started buzzing off the hook. > [What the hell? Where’d you go!?] > [Helloooo? I swear, are you a real paralegal or not? Which school do you go to? I’ll report you!] > [Is this how you run a business? I know it’s free, but I’m still the client! You have zero customer service skills!] After enjoying her meltdown for a few minutes, I finally replied. [So sorry, I was in class. Just got free.] She lectured me for another minute before getting back to her point. [Okay, so I’ve been thinking about a scenario. In my family, only my mom is nice to my cousin. My dad and I are pretty cold to her because she's so perfect it's annoying. So, could she sue for emotional distress or something? Claiming years of psychological abuse and demand a piece of the estate as compensation?] I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. I tweaked an AI-generated response and sent it to her. [Ma'am, legally speaking, being 'cold' to someone does not constitute abuse, and it certainly has no bearing on property division. The only way she can legally inherit is if your parents explicitly grant her assets in a legally binding will or trust. Without that, her claim has no basis. You don't need to worry.] 8 Ashley was furious. [Who are you to say that? You're not a judge! You're just a student! You don't know anything!] I sent a laughing emoji. [You're welcome to consult with a licensed attorney. I'm confident their answer will be the same.] [So you’re saying there’s no way? That’s insane! She lived in our house for eight years! Eight! Even if she's not family on paper, isn't there something like 'common law family'? How can they just cut her out? No way!] In her rage, she’d completely forgotten her cover story. [Ma'am, please calm down. That specific avenue won't work, but it doesn't mean all hope is lost. For example, you saw the other commenter mention inheriting 'by proxy.'] [What does that even mean? Explain it to me. Now.] [It means that if, for example, your mother were to pass away, her mother—your grandmother—would be entitled to a share of her estate. If your grandmother then passed away, that share would go to her children, meaning your uncle. Your uncle could then gift that inheritance to his own child. It's an indirect route, but it's a possibility.] I wondered if she was smart enough to follow the logic. Her reply came quickly. [So if my mom dies, my grandma gets her money. Then if grandma dies, my uncle gets the money. And if my uncle gets it, it’s basically mine. Right?] I sent her three thumbs-up emojis. She was a quick study when it came to greed. [Ugh, why do you have to wait for people to die to get inheritance? So annoying. I have to figure this out.] Her last message sounded like she was thinking out loud. I decided to test the waters. I pasted another AI response. [Under state and federal law, homicide carries severe penalties, including life in prison or the death penalty. Even if you were to inherit, the Slayer Rule would legally bar you from receiving any assets from the person you harmed. I understand your frustration, but I strongly advise against any extreme measures. Please consider the legal ramifications.] Ashley didn't reply. But later that evening, as if on cue, my mom let out a series of loud sneezes in the living room. That was just the beginning. In the days to come, she would learn the true depths of her beloved niece's malice.
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