Here’s a much shorter version of your story that preserves the key emotions and events:
I never understood how my sister and I turned out so different—until adulthood. Our single mom raised us in a tiny, cold apartment, working two jobs to survive. We often went hungry, but neighbors helped, and Mom always sacrificed for us.
As we grew up, life improved. Mom got a better job, we moved, and both of us went to college. But Samira, younger and sheltered from hardship, became selfish and careless with money—still relying on Mom long after she should’ve been independent.
Then came the call. Mom was sick—her heart was failing, and time was short. She asked me not to tell Samira, who’d only just broken up with her boyfriend. When she finally did, Samira accused me of trying to steal the inheritance and barred me from seeing Mom.
Eventually, I found ways to visit secretly. I discovered Samira was spending Mom’s money recklessly while pretending to care. I took over medical bills to ease Mom’s burden.
When Mom passed, Samira immediately tried to claim the inheritance. But Mom had left me a final letter—and an updated will. She saw through everything. She left it all to me, because she knew who truly cared.
Through tears, I promised to live with the same love and strength she showed us every day.
Let me know if you’d like an even shorter version or one with a specific tone.
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