My parents decided they would sell my country house to buy my pregnant sister an apartment. Mom said she deserved her own space, and everyone acted like I had no say.

Maybe it was the memory of Grandma Ruth sitting beside the country house window, holding my hand and whispering, “Don’t let them take everything from you, Em.”

At the time, I thought she meant her jewelry.

Now I understood she meant my life.

Dad pointed toward the folder.

“You’re going to fix this.”

“No,” I said.

“You will give your sister enough for the continue reading …