We can hold unsolved questions from our youth. We grow up, move on, and let those questions go. But what happens when the past isn’t buried? What if it appears years later, disguised as an inheritance? This is the story of a daughter, her missing father, and a truth revealed way too late. A goodbye that left me feeling confused and pained. My father vanished when I was four. Last month, a lawyer called. My father had passed away, leaving me half of the flat he lived with my mother.

When she found out, she demanded that I give it to her. I refused. That’s when she disclosed that my father had lived near me my entire childhood and I’d never met him. When I (26,F) was four years old, my father abruptly left our lives. There was no goodbye. There’s no explanation. No birthday greetings or phone calls. He simply vanished.

My mother and grandmother reared me. My mother refused to talk about him, so I gradually stopped asking. His absence faded into the background, causing agony but remaining steady. I grew up and assumed I’d moved on. I left home when I was eighteen years old. I worked hard, received scholarships, and paid my way through university. It wasn’t simple, but I took pride in completing everything on my own.

Today, I live in a tiny yet cozy apartment with my boyfriend. It’s not glamorous, but it is mine. Years of hard work, resilience, and learning to rely on myself have all contributed to this accomplishment. A phone call from the past transformed everything. A few weeks ago, I got a call from a lawyer I didn’t know. He informed me that my father had passed away. Apparently, he never remarried, had any more children, or revised his will.

What surprised me the most was that dad still owned 50% of the flat he used to share with my mother, and he had given that share to me through his will. My mom was outraged. When I told my mother about the bequest, she was furious. She insisted that I turn over my portion of the apartment to her immediately so that she could sell it and finally retire. I informed her that I needed some time to consider things through.

She claimed that I had no right to keep something she had lived in and maintained for years after he left us. She said I should give her my share out of principle, because he had never paid child support and she had carried the entire burden of raising me alone. Harsh remarks were spoken. I remained cool and tried to be reasonable. I stressed that I had no intention of selling or forcing her out of the house. I simply intended to keep half for a future investment. Maybe I’ll rent it out one day.

That was when she fully lost her cool. She called me greedy. She called me ungrateful. Then she said I was “profiting off her pain.” However, the truth hurt even more. My mother said something in the middle of the dispute that made me gasp. She informed me that my father had lived in our city the entire time. He ran a small repair company about thirty minutes away. I’d probably strolled past it without noticing.

He knew where I was. He could have reached out. Yet he never did. Now I’m not sure who I’m more annoyed with! I never asked for this inheritance. I did not expect anything from the man who had abandoned me. I’m not trying to take anything from my mother either. But I can’t ignore what happened—or what I’ve recently learned. He was so near, but he remained mute for years. Now I’m not sure who I’m more angry at: my father for leaving me behind, or my mother for concealing this reality from me.