Grandma’s trust.”
“No, Madison. I got what was left.”
Her expression shifted.
I continued.
“You got years of my inheritance. Mom and Dad’s attention. Every celebration. Every rescue. Every excuse.”
She looked away.
For a second, she seemed almost small.
Then Mom walked toward me.
“Are you really going to live here?”
I glanced at the doorway.
The house held memories I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep.
“No.”
Dad stopped carrying his box.
“What?”
“I’m selling it.”
All three of them stared.
Dad’s face reddened.
“This house has been
