So I bought it.
I paid off the mortgage and back taxes, replaced the furnace, and let Dad stay rent-free because he’d made one promise.
“This will always be your home too.”
Now twelve people sat beneath the chandelier I’d installed, eating food I’d bought, while my father told me to disappear.
I set down my fork.
“Is that really what you want?”
Diane answered first.
“Don’t make this dramatic, Emily. You’ve never fit here. You’re always keeping score.”
Jason smirked.
“She thinks paying a few bills makes her queen.”
A few bills.
I scanned the dining room.
The roof: mine.
The property taxes: mine.
The insurance: mine.
Even the turkey came from a grocery account linked to my card.
Dad leaned back.
“Maybe it’s time you built a life somewhere else and stopped holding things over us.”
Something inside me went completely still.
