They knew I had purchased property.
They did not know much else.
Lauren and I had exchanged birthday messages over the years.
Mom occasionally invited me to Thanksgiving.
Sometimes I went.
Usually I didn’t.
Nobody ever apologized for what happened when I was nineteen.
The family story became:
Emma wanted to leave young.
Eventually, even Mom seemed to believe it.
I stopped correcting her.
Distance was easier.
Until the moving truck arrived.
PART THREE — “FAMILY DOESN’T NEED AN INVITATION”
Twenty minutes after I disconnected the intercom, they were still outside.
Mom began calling my phone.
I ignored the first four calls.
On the fifth, I answered.
“What?”
Her voice exploded through the speaker.
“Are you seriously making your sister stand on the side of the road with three children?”
“They can get back into the vehicles.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes. I do.”
“Lauren has nowhere to go.”
