I didn’t.
“I want everyone out,” I said. “Now.”
Carol began to cry harder. Her husband, Martin, set his plate on the porch railing and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Young lady, we sold our condo.”
The words dropped into the yard like stones.
I looked from him to Melissa. “You what?”
Martin’s face tightened. “Melissa said this was a done deal. Said the house was hers, and Amanda was never home anyway. We put most of our things in storage and sold the condo last month.”
Derek went pale.
Melissa’s lips parted. “Dad, not now.”
But the damage had already begun spreading.
My mother shut her eyes.
I stared at Melissa, and for the first time that afternoon, something colder than anger slid through me.
“You told them to sell their home?”
Melissa crossed her arms. “They wanted to downsize.”
“To my address?”
“You don’t understand what it’s like,” she snapped. “You have everything. The career, the house, the freedom. I have pressure from every side. Derek’s parents needed help, Mom needed peace, and you had rooms sitting empty like a selfish monument to yourself.”
My house, my sanctuary, my proof that I had built a life no one could take from me, had become an accusation in her mouth.
I stepped closer, slowly.
“You moved strangers into my home while I was gone.”
