"Melanie, everything I'm doing is to clean up after you."
He walked over to where I sat and crouched down in front of me.
"Rae, go home and rest. Once things settle down for me, I'll come see you. All right?"
"Home, as in the New York house?"
He froze for a second, then shot back at once.
"No. That's where Sarah and Viola live."
Mom's mouth twisted.
"Gavin, between Viola and Rachel, which one is actually your daughter?"
"Don't think I don't know you gave the Whitmore faculty-family admissions slot to Viola. And now you want to hand our home over to those two as well?"
His eyes went wide, his voice climbing high and sharp.
"What would you know? Viola has real promise. She just had one bad day on the SATs. She needs that slot more than Rachel does."
"You're calling a 364 a bad day?"
"Enough—"
He swiped at his phone a couple of times and held it up in front of her.
"I bought you two train tickets back to our hometown. They leave in two hours."
"Melanie, if you still want this family, stop fighting me."
Mom stared at his face for a few seconds.
Then she spoke, perfectly calm.
"Gavin, I don't want this family anymore."
His expression darkened.
A tired, tamped-down anger surfaced slowly in his eyes.
For as long as I could remember, he'd worn that exact look at Mom again and again.
From all their years of fighting, I'd pieced the old story together.
Sarah was Dad's first love.
His family was poor, so Sarah's parents broke the two of them apart.
Sarah went on to marry a wealthy businessman.
Heartbroken, Dad married Mom, who had loved him all along.
But the businessman turned out to be a fraud. He drank himself to death at home and left Sarah and her daughter buried in debt.
After her divorce, Sarah got back in touch with Dad.
That was the moment our happy home shattered.
After that, all that was left in the house was Dad's shouting and Mom's tears.
Until three years ago, when Dad got transferred to New York for work.
The fights grew rarer, but the marriage had long been hollow, two strangers under one roof.
Mom struggled through ten years of that marriage.
For herself, and for me.
"Melanie, don't say things you don't mean."
Dad dropped that line and walked out without looking back.
Mom turned away.
The tears she'd been holding back fell, one after another.
"Rae, if Mom leaves your dad, would you..."
Would I be upset...
"Mom."
I stood up and took her hand.
"All I want is for you to be happy. I'll always be your daughter."
When we came home again, Dad had already changed the front-door code from his phone.
Calm as anything, Mom picked up her phone and called a locksmith.
The house was in her name.
It was the inheritance her grandfather had left her.
She had the technician strip off the smart lock and install a new one.
She boxed up everything belonging to Sarah and Viola and had a courier run it to the hospital.
Every single thing in that house their hands had touched, the furniture included, went straight out the door.
Then she made a phone call.
"Hello, this is Melanie. Yes, I'm Marlin Shepherd's granddaughter. I'd like to ask about the special admissions slot at Whitmore University..."
Ten minutes later, Mom hung up.
A loose, easy look settled over her face for the first time in ages.
"Rae, get plenty of rest these next two days. You've got your Whitmore interview the day after tomorrow."
Late that night, I jolted awake to violent pounding at the door.
I strapped on my prosthetic and stepped out of my room.
Dad's face was livid.
"Melanie, do you have to take this to such an extreme? There's nothing going on between Sarah and me. I was only lending a hand to help them out."
