But it was a consequence she’d never believed she’d have to face.
She lost the house.
She lost the appearance of success she’d built around it.
And she lost the ability to rely on our parents to make every problem disappear.
When the deadline to vacate arrived, Madison placed her keys on the kitchen counter.
She left without apologizing.
Mom later sent me a message claiming Madison was too emotionally devastated to speak.
Dad wrote that I would eventually regret choosing property over family.
I didn’t respond.
The next morning, Elena accompanied me through the empty house.
Without Madison’s expensive furniture, the rooms looked strangely small.
Pale rectangles remained on the walls where enormous family portraits had once hung.
In the dining room stood the long table where my parents had applauded my humiliation.
I stared at it for several minutes.
Then I made a decision.
