I said nothing. Not yet. I wanted to hear what she thought everything meant.
I didn’t stand up for you. I let Ryan talk to you like that. I let mom treat you like help. I always knew it was wrong, but I told myself it wasn’t my place to fix it, that it was easier not to stir things up, but I saw how they looked after you left, Alex.
It was like something cracked open. Everything felt exposed. Quiet. Even Ryan stopped talking for once.
I still didn’t reply.
I read your old message again, she said. The one in the group chat. The one where you said you were just doing what they taught you, taking care of what’s yours. I think that hit harder than you realized.
It wasn’t meant to be poetic. I finally said it was just the truth.
She sighed.
Yeah, that’s the part that hurt.
There was a long silence between us. Not tense, just honest.
Then she added, “They’re talking about selling the house.”
That made me sit up. “What?”
Yeah. Dad says it’s too much to maintain now. The heating’s a mess. The outdoor stuff’s broken. And well, Denise is embarrassed. She had friends over last week and the power flickered during lunch.
Ryan lost a freelance gig because the Wi-Fi dropped in the middle of a call.
“So,” I said slowly. “Now that things are inconvenient, they want to give up.”
She didn’t argue.
“They don’t even realize it wasn’t the stuff I took that broke the house,” I added. “It was the foundation.”
“I know,” she said quietly. That’s why I’m not calling for them.
There was another pause and then she said something that surprised me.
“I want to stay in touch. I don’t care about Denise’s side of the family anymore. I miss my brother, my real brother.”