I waited.
Then asked:
“Do you hear yourself?”
Silence.
Mom hung up.
Lucas called next.
His voice was softer.
“Can’t you just do this for me?”
For a moment, I almost said yes.
That was the old reflex.
Then I remembered every birthday dinner where Lucas received gifts and I helped clean up.
Every holiday when my plans changed because something in Lucas’s life mattered more.
Every time he noticed and stayed quiet.
“No.”
He sounded surprised.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you doing this now?”
“Because I should have done it years ago.”
Then Dad called one last time.
His voice had gone cold.
“If you don’t come, you’re out of the will.”
I actually smiled.
Not because it was funny.
Because he had finally reached for the only leverage he thought I would respect.
“I make more than all of you combined.”
Silence.
“You’re bluffing.”
“If you ever asked about my life,” I said, “you’d know I’m not.”
Then I hung up.
That was the last call I answered.
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After that, my phone became a scoreboard of everybody else’s emotions.
Dad angry.
Mom wounded.
Lucas confused.
Then anger again.
I stopped reading most of it.
Instead, I opened the house listing I had saved.
Three bedrooms.
Cedar siding.
A small yard.
Enough room for a garden.
I had been looking at houses for months.