AITA for inheriting everything from my late neighbor when her estranged daughter suddenly demanded it?

I never expected my elderly neighbor and close friend to leave her entire estate to me—nor did I expect her estranged daughter to come after me with accusations the moment she learned about it.

I met Valorie in 2018 when we became next-door neighbors on the top floor of our condo building. We bonded through Saturday mornings tending our plants, sharing stories, and building a quiet friendship. She’d been widowed since 55, and over time I learned she had a daughter, Sam, who’d been kicked out in the early 2000s after coming out. Valorie always regretted not fighting for her. In 2022, at her request, I helped her find Sam online and draft a long apology. Sam saw the message but never replied. When Valorie passed suddenly this January, I notified Sam—but she didn’t attend the funeral. I assumed that was the end of it until I learned Valorie had left everything to me. Only then did Sam reappear, furious and demanding her mother’s belongings, accusing me of manipulation and theft.

I’m the friend who became family to Valorie in her final years. Her daughter resurfaced only after her death—angry, accusing me of exploitation, and demanding what Valorie chose to leave to me.

Sam had been estranged since 2002, and Garry’s rejection over her sexuality devastated Valorie. Even after Garry’s death and years of reflection, Valorie didn’t know how to reach out—until I helped her send a long, vulnerable message in 2022. Sam never replied. When Valorie passed in January 2025, I informed Sam, but she didn’t attend the funeral. Weeks later, she resurfaced demanding I hand over everything, accusing me of taking advantage of an elderly widow despite never reconnecting herself.

"She hasn't spoken to Valorie in literal decades and now says I stole from her mother."

The estate is simple: a condo, a modest car, and personal belongings. The probate lawyer confirmed that Valorie—of sound mind—left everything to me and that Sam has no claim. Sam, meanwhile, sent increasingly aggressive messages, calling me names and demanding responses, even though probate records show she initially told attorneys she didn’t want anything. Unsure what to do, I sought independent legal advice. My new lawyer will communicate with Sam on my behalf and ask her what she actually wants.

"I'm not going to respond until I can do it in the right way."

While I’m organizing Valorie’s belongings, I'm open to giving Sam sentimental items if they help her heal. But I’m also trying to understand why someone who ignored her mother for decades—and told probate she wanted nothing—chose instead to send me insults and demands. Right now, I’m grieving my friend, caring for her plants, and trying to honor her wishes while navigating Sam’s sudden and hostile involvement.

🏠 The Aftermath

Probate is underway, and Valorie’s will is being honored exactly as she set it up. My new lawyer has stepped in to communicate with Sam and request that she stop messaging me directly.

Sam told probate she wanted nothing, yet privately sent me hostile messages demanding everything. Now the lawyer is asking her to clarify her intentions. Legally, her window to contest is limited—and emotionally, her grief and anger seem to be colliding.

Meanwhile, I’m sorting Valorie’s belongings, caring for her plants, and preparing to box sentimental items should Sam request them. But the central tension remains: honoring Valorie’s explicit wishes while facing Sam’s unpredictable reaction.

"I never expected grief, guilt, and inheritance to collide like this after losing a friend."

The situation has created a strange mix of mourning, responsibility, and conflict—one that Valorie likely hoped to spare both of us from. Instead, the lack of closure between mother and daughter echoes loudly through every step of the process.

💭 Emotional Reflection

At its core, this isn’t a fight over money—it’s a tangle of grief, regret, and decades of silence. I was the person who saw Valorie daily, who heard her stories, who helped her reach out, and who held her regrets with her.

Sam’s anger makes emotional sense even if her accusations don’t. Losing a parent you never reconciled with can trigger guilt, resentment, and misplaced blame. And being the person chosen in the will makes me an easy target for those feelings.

There’s no simple right answer. Valorie made her wishes known with clarity. Sam carries wounds I cannot see. I’m trying to honor both without compromising my boundaries or the peace Valorie hoped to leave behind.

Here’s how the community might see it:

“You honored Valorie in life and in death. Sam’s grief doesn’t entitle her to rewrite the past or the will.”

“Sam’s reaction is grief mixed with guilt. Sentimental items are fair—but you don’t owe her the estate.”

“Let the lawyers handle it. Direct communication will only escalate things given her hostility.”

Reactions balance empathy for Sam with respect for Valorie’s clearly documented wishes—and caution around the volatile emotions involved.

🌱 Final Thoughts

Valorie chose me because I was there, consistently, in the years when she needed connection most. Her love, regrets, and wishes were deliberate—not accidental, coerced, or confused.

I’m open to giving Sam emotional space and sentimental items, but I won’t ignore the care Valorie put into planning her estate or the kindness she showed me for seven years.

What do you think?
Would you have held firm to the will, or given Sam part of the estate to keep the peace? Share your thoughts below 👇