I thought maybe you’d want—”
“I’m meeting with Dad’s lawyer,” I said. “I already did, actually.”
“You know what for.”
She stepped into the room slowly, setting the mug down on my desk like that would soften the blow.
“We didn’t think we were hurting you,” she whispered.
“We just wanted to build something better.”
“You built it on a lie,” I said. “And you expected me to be grateful for it.”
She stood there for a long time before finally nodding. “I’m sorry,” she said.
But I didn’t respond.
I wasn’t ready to accept it.
I turn 18 in three months.
I don’t know what’ll happen with the legal stuff. I don’t know if I’ll get the money back, or if the house will be sold, or if they’ll just get a slap on the wrist. But I do know this: I finally stood up for myself.
They thought I should feel guilty.
But I’m the one who lost my dad.
I’m the one who lost the future he tried to protect for me. And somehow, I’m the one they treated like a problem.
Not anymore.
I don’t regret what I said. I don’t even regret making them uncomfortable.
Because now, finally, they know.
They know I remember. They know I see them for what they really are. And they know I’m not letting it go.
Not this time.
What would you have done if you were in my place?
