“Fight you,” she said. “After everything Mom and Dad have done for you.”
Everything.
The word sat there between us.
Mom jumped in.
“One daughter is sitting on an incredibly valuable property while the other is struggling.”
“I just want things to be fair,” Brianna said.
Natalie opened her folder and pushed paperwork toward me.
“If we list today, I can probably have the property under contract within a week.”
“Jasmine has not agreed to sell,” Camille said.
“She will,” Dad replied.
His voice had the same flat certainty it had carried through most of my childhood.
“Because if she doesn’t, she’s out of this family. No holidays. No birthdays. No contact. Nothing.”
Even Aunt Denise looked uncomfortable.
Mom squeezed Brianna’s hand.
“Your sister needs this, Jasmine. Her new job requires her to entertain clients. She needs a proper home.”
“The apartment you help pay for?” I asked.
“That’s temporary.”
Camille tried to redirect the conversation.
Dad interrupted her.
“We need Jasmine to sign.”
I looked around the table.
They were so certain.
Brianna dabbed beneath her eyes.
“I already told Trevor we might start looking at houses soon. You’re embarrassing me.”
Dad added, “You’re an accountant living in a studio. What do you need with three bedrooms?”
Brianna shook her head.
“She’ll probably rent it out and make money from Grandma’s death.”
For a second, the absurdity almost made me laugh.
She was accusing me of greed while demanding half the value of property Grandma had left to me.
Natalie pushed the papers closer.
“The offer is generous. Both of you could walk away with enough for a substantial down payment.”
“Both?”
I looked directly at her.
“The house is mine.”
Mom exhaled sharply.
“Oh, don’t be technical. Family shares.”
“Like you shared college tuition?”
The room tightened.
Mom’s eyes narrowed.
“Like you shared birthday celebrations?”
Dad rolled his eyes.
“Here we go.”
“Like you shared showing up for graduations?”
“Poor Jasmine,” he said. “Still carrying all those old grudges.”
Brianna’s expression changed.
“You had Grandma’s attention. Every Sunday, every holiday, you were always around her. The least you can do is share what she left.”
Camille spoke quietly.
“The will is very clear.”
Dad turned on her.
“Wills can be challenged.”
Then he looked back at me.
“You were constantly at Margaret’s house. Who knows what you told her?”
Mom picked up the argument immediately.
“You filled her head with complaints. You made us look terrible.”
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
A message from Adrien.
Everything was ready.
He was about fifteen minutes away.
I looked at the people across from me.
They shared my DNA.
They had never shared my burdens.
And now they were treating Grandma’s final decision as if it were only a temporary inconvenience they could vote to overturn.
“You want the house?” I asked.
Everyone stopped talking.
“Fine.”
Dad narrowed his eyes.
“What are you playing at?”
“No games.”
I stood.
“If we’re going to keep arguing about the house, let’s do it there.”
Mom was already reaching for her purse.
“It’s not taking if it stays in the family.”
Camille stood too.
“I should remind everyone that any decision involving the property—”
Dad waved her off.
Within minutes, we were all driving toward East Austin.
I went alone.
Mom, Dad, Brianna, and Natalie rode together. Camille followed separately.
The line of cars behind me felt less like a family visit and more like a procession.
Adrien called through the car speakers.