Not because I felt sorry for her.
Because I finally understood her.
She gets everything.
She genuinely thought life was a prize table, and somebody had handed me the bigger ticket.
I put one hand over my stomach. “They’re people, Donna. Not prizes somebody forgot to give you.”
She looked away.
“And none of us owe you money because your life didn’t happen exactly the way you wanted.”
She genuinely thought life was a prize table.
Mom nodded. “No more rent.”
Dad added, “No more emergencies.”
Claire said, “No more secret transfers.”
Donna looked at me. “You too?”
“Especially me.”
“So you’re all cutting me off?”
No more emergencies.
“We’re stopping financing lies.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“For starters? Keep both jobs.”
Donna stared at all of us, waiting for someone to take her side.
Nobody did.
Then she grabbed her purse and stormed out.
We’re stopping financing lies.
***
Weeks later, Claire sent us a wedding photo.
Donna stood in the background clutching the stolen bouquet.
Mia looked over my shoulder. “Did it work?”
“Nope.”
She grinned.
I did too.
Did it work?
For years, I’d excused Donna, helped her, and believed every crisis she brought to us.
Not anymore.
She’d taught me one thing: protecting family didn’t mean protecting them from the consequences of their own choices.
And I would never stay quiet again when someone came after my daughter.
