Grant looked at me. Then he looked at Faith. Then he looked back at me. In his eyes was something I had never seen before—genuine fear mixed with disbelief. He opened his mouth twice before the words finally came out, halting and breathless.
“Something went wrong. Your mother…the house.”
He collapsed into the chair as if his legs had stopped supporting him. Faith leaned toward him urgently, trying to keep her voice low so that Audrey and I wouldn’t hear. But I was paying attention. Very close attention.
“What do you mean something went wrong? Did you do what we agreed or not?”
“I went there, Faith. I went with the locksmith you hired. But when we arrived…”
He paused, running his hands over his face in a gesture of absolute despair.
“The house is no longer in your mother’s name. There are new owners—people who were inside living there. They showed me the paperwork. Everything legal. All signed before a notary. The sale was made three weeks ago.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Faith froze, her wine glass halfway to her lips. I watched as her brain processed the information, how her eyes moved frantically, trying to make sense of the impossible. Then, slowly, her gaze settled on me.
I was still smiling, calm, serene. I took a sip of my sparkling water and placed the glass gently on the table. Audrey was still talking about her travel plans, completely oblivious to the silent storm that had just erupted in front of her.
“Mom.”
Faith’s voice was controlled, but I could feel the tension vibrating beneath every syllable.
“You sold the house.”
“Yes, daughter. I sold it.”
There was no need to lie. There was no need to apologize. It was my house, my property—the result of forty years of working as a nurse at General Hospital, of night shifts that ruined my back, of sacrifices she never knew. Because I made sure she had everything she needed.
“When? Why didn’t you tell us anything?”
“Three weeks ago. And I didn’t have to tell you anything. I didn’t need your permission.”
Grant remained pale, looking alternately at Faith and me as if he were witnessing an accident in slow motion. Faith, on the other hand, began to regain color in her face, but it wasn’t the natural pink of health. It was the intense red of contained fury.
