Finally, my parents’ dark SUV turned onto the street.
My father stepped out first.
Tall, calm, and solid in a way that had always made me feel safe.
My mother hurried toward me and wrapped me in a careful hug.
“Sweetheart,” she whispered.
I broke down again.
My father looked toward the house.
Right on cue, the door opened.
Sabrina stepped outside, clearly annoyed.
“Connor isn’t here,” she said coldly.
“That’s fine,” my father replied.
He walked straight toward the door.
“You can’t just walk in here,” Sabrina snapped.
My father calmly pulled a small envelope from his jacket.
Inside was a folded document.
He held it up.
“This property,” he said quietly, “is not Connor’s to give away.”
Sabrina blinked.
“What?”
My mother squeezed my shoulder gently.
“Before your wedding,” she said softly, “your father and I bought this house for you.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
My father nodded.
