Inside, nothing seemed touched. Still, I walked each room carefully, instincts from years of deployment kicking in. Cleared corners, checked windows, no signs of forced entry. But the fact that strangers had come this close was enough.
That evening, Mom called again. I almost didn’t answer, but something in me wanted to hear what excuse she had this time.
“Hannah,” she said, “you’re making things worse. Megan feels like you’re shutting her out.”
“She’s breaking into my life, Mom. Literally. I had strangers walking my property lines this morning.”
“She’s just trying to protect family interests,” Mom insisted.
“Family interests?” I snapped. “What about my interests? What about Dad’s wishes? He trusted me with this, not her.”
The silence stretched heavy. Finally, she said, “Megan is worried you’ll ruin things out of spite.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Out of spite? She called me a stinking woman in front of you, and you sat there, and now you’re siding with her. Tell me, Mom, when exactly did I stop being part of this family?”
