The old grandfather clock in the hallway chimed as I traced my fingers across the frame of my dad’s photo. His smile stared back at me, frozen in time. A whole year had passed since we buried him, but the ache in my chest still felt fresh, like it happened yesterday.
“Dad,” I whispered softly, my voice trembling, “I miss you so much.”
Behind me, I heard footsteps. Mom entered the room, her arms crossed, her face carrying that expression I’d grown used to — half pity, half resentment. “Katie, stop moping around,” she said sharply.
“He’s gone, and crying won’t bring him back.”
Her words cut like a knife. Ever since the lawyer had read Dad’s will, things had never been the same. Dad left me ninety percent of everything — especially this house, his pride and joy.
Mom and my brother Tyler only got $10,000 each. I still remembered the way Mom’s face twisted with rage in the lawyer’s office. That look haunted me.
“I’m not moping,” I said quietly. “I’m just remembering.”
She snorted. “Well, remember while dusting the shelves.
You’re twenty years old and still don’t know how to keep a place clean. This house is a mess.”
I bit my tongue. For a year, I had let her act like she still owned this place.
Fighting wasn’t worth it… until one rainy afternoon when everything changed. The front door slammed open. I heard heavy luggage wheels scraping against the hardwood floors Dad had restored with his own hands.
“Hello? Anyone home?” Tyler’s booming voice echoed through the house. I hurried to the entryway and froze.
There he was, my brother, with his wife Gwen — and eight giant suitcases piled behind them. “What’s all this?” I asked, dread building in my stomach. Tyler grinned like it was good news.
“Surprise! Our lease ended. We thought — why waste money on rent when there’s plenty of space here?”
I blinked in disbelief.
“You’re… moving in? Did you talk to Mom about this? She didn’t say anything to me.”
“Of course I did,” Mom’s voice chimed in.
She appeared behind me with a satisfied look. “I told them it was a wonderful idea.”
I turned to her slowly. “This isn’t your house to offer.”
The air seemed to freeze.
Mom’s eyes narrowed. “What did you just say to me?”
“I said this isn’t your house, Mom. You should have asked me first.”
Tyler burst out laughing while Gwen smirked like a queen.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Katie. This is the family home. We’re family.”
“You should be grateful for the company,” Gwen added, already walking past me toward the stairs.
“Which guest room can we take?”
“We’ll take the blue room,” Mom answered for them. “It has the best morning light.”
As they thundered upstairs with their luggage, Mom patted my shoulder like I was a child throwing a tantrum. “Don’t make a fuss, Katie.
It’ll be nice having everyone together again.”
I stood frozen in the hallway, feeling like I had somehow become a guest in my own house. “But it’s my house,” I whispered, but no one heard. Two months of pure hell followed.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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