Emily has two kids. The place is sitting empty half the time.”
“It is not empty. It is my home.”
Then I heard my sister in the background.
“Tell her I already moved the boys into the big room.”
My stomach dropped.
I had left for a six-week consulting project in Denver. Mom had a spare key for emergencies—burst pipes, alarms, or checking the mail if I was delayed.
Apparently, she decided “emergency” meant moving my sister into the house I had spent eleven years paying for.
I ended the
