The reading of my grandfather’s will was a somber affair, marked by a heavy atmosphere of grief and anticipation.

As the lawyer announced the distribution of his wealth, I listened with a sinking feeling in my chest. To my dismay, it seemed that everyone in the family had been included in his generous bequests except for me.I felt a wave of devastation wash over me as I sat there, grappling with the reality of being excluded from my grandfather’s final wishes. Questions swirled in my mind, and I struggled to understand why I had been left out.As tears welled up in my eyes, the lawyer approached me with a sympathetic expression. “Your grandfather loved you more than anyone,” he said softly, handing me a sealed envelope.

Confused and heartbroken, I took the envelope from him, feeling the weight of it in my hands. With trembling fingers, I tore it open, half-expecting to find a token gesture or a few kind words to console me in my grief.But as I unfolded the piece of paper inside, I felt a jolt of shock course through me. It was an address, written in my grandfather’s unmistakable handwriting.

Curious and bewildered, I looked up from the paper to see the stunned expressions of my family members around me. Their jaws hung open in disbelief, mirroring my own incredulity.”What is it?” someone asked, breaking the stunned silence that had fallen over the room.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to process the unexpected turn of events. Then, with a mixture of confusion and excitement, I spoke up.”It’s an address,” I said, my voice trembling with emotion. “And it’s from Grandpa.”