The letter was sealed very carefully, I did not open it, but I knew it was the will. My husband – Rajesh – was a secretive, clever and far-sighted person, so I believed that he had divided the property among his children to avoid fighting after both father and mother passed away.

After the 49th day of the Shraddha ceremony, the three brothers sat in the living room of the ancestral house in Jaipur. I quietly took the envelope from the drawer, gave it to the eldest son – Arvind – and told him to read it out loud and clearly for the whole family to hear.

As soon as Arvind finished reading, the room suddenly became suffocatingly silent.

The youngest son – Rohan – sat there stunned, then suddenly jumped up, gritting his teeth:

– Why is it like that, mother? Dad said to divide it equally. Right in front of me, Dad said everything would be divided into three parts.

I was stunned, speechless. Before that, like Rohan, I had only heard Rajesh say that it would be divided equally. Now the will is very different.

– Or is it… – Rohan turned to look at Arvind with a suspicious look – You influenced Dad to write this, right? You were with Dad, he didn’t listen to anything you said.

Arvind immediately stood up and shouted at his brother:
– Watch your words!

Then he started to list his achievements: from repairing the house in Jaipur, taking care of Rajesh every day when he was in the hospital in Delhi…

Rohan was not to be outdone, and replied:
– What about the times I came back to buy supplements, milk, each time tens of thousands of rupees for my parents?

I stood in the middle watching my children argue fiercely, my heart aching.

At that moment, the second son – Sameer – spoke up:
– Stop it! Mom is still here, why are you arguing like enemies?

But Rohan turned to me, his face red:
– Do you know? I asked Dad several times about dividing the property, but he kept avoiding me. It turned out that everything was arranged. Or did Mom know and hide it from me?

I was speechless and just shook my head.

That very day, Rohan left, didn’t eat, didn’t say goodbye to anyone. Arvind was angry and blamed me for not standing by him even though he had taken care of everything. The house after the funeral was no longer cozy, only a heavy silence remained.

That night, I sat alone in my room. Rajesh’s photo was still placed solemnly on the altar, his smile as gentle as before. I looked at my husband, my eyes filled with tears.

Rajesh, you were wise all your life, but in the end you let your children doubt and resent each other. From now on, I’m afraid it will be difficult for this house to be as harmonious as before.

Three Years Later

Three years had passed since Rajesh’s death, and the house in Jaipur had become cold and desolate. I – Savita – lived alone within four walls, except for the holidays when a few neighbors visited, most of the time there was only the sound of the ceiling fan and the pigeons on the roof to keep me company.

After that argument, my children rarely came home. Arvind – the eldest son – stayed in Jaipur, living in the house next door but rarely visited. He was busy with his business and also felt resentful because he thought I did not “protect” him from his two younger siblings. Sameer – the second son – moved to Gurgaon, only coming back during Diwali. As for Rohan – the youngest son – he completely cut off contact. I still remember the last time I saw him in the yard, with a backpack on his shoulder, his eyes red…

In the early days, I told myself “time will heal the wound”, but later on, I realized that time only makes the scar thicker if people refuse to face and speak their hearts.

One winter afternoon
That year, Jaipur was colder than usual. I was sitting making ginger tea when I heard a knock on the door. I opened it and saw Rohan standing there, thinner than before, holding a small gift bag. He paused when he saw me, then said softly:

– Mom… I’m home.

Before I could be happy, I saw Sameer and… Arvind behind me. All three of them stood awkwardly like children caught doing something wrong. It turned out that Rohan had just been in a motorbike accident in Mumbai, almost dying. In the hospital, he called Sameer, then both of them decided to return to Jaipur, find Arvind to talk things out.

The conversation that night
We sat around the old wooden table in the living room. Arvind was the one who opened the conversation:

– Mom, I’m sorry for letting things turn out like this. I thought dad divided it like that because of… the effort I put in when I was with dad, but I was selfish.

Rohan looked down at his teacup:

– I was wrong too. I let my pride outweigh my brotherly love. At that time, I just thought dad was biased, so I left, not wanting to see anyone anymore.

Sameer sighed:

– All three of us are at fault. But mom is the one who suffered the most. For the past three years, she has lived alone, she must have been very lonely.

Hearing that, I just smiled, my voice trembling:

– Kids, property is just material things. The most precious thing your dad left behind… is brotherly love. Don’t let a will destroy it.

Resolving hatred
After that evening, the kids discussed it again. Arvind suggested redistributing a portion of the property to make it more fair, but Rohan shook his head:

– No need. Dad has decided, we should respect it. Just let us go back to the way we were.

The three brothers hugged each other. I sat there, tears falling but my heart was light. I knew Rajesh was smiling somewhere.

The End
That Diwali season, for the first time in three years, my house was lit up again, with candles and laughter filling the yard. The children ran around, the smell of ladoos filled the kitchen.

The hatred was resolved, not by time, but by daring to face the truth and to say sorry. And I understood, sometimes, the most important thing a family needs to keep… is not the legacy, but the heart for each other