"If that's how you feel, then there's nothing left to say."
"The house, the payout—divide it however you want. I don't want any of it. Never did."
My sister scoffed.
"See, Mom? You were right about her. Always putting on an act."
"Our house is worth five million in demolition money. If you weren't sniffing around for your cut, why else would you suddenly show up now?"
Mom looked me up and down with open contempt, nodding along.
"Exactly. Standing there playing the wounded martyr, pretending you don't care—you just want me to feel sorry for you and hand over some cash."
"Let me make this crystal clear: everything I have goes to your sister. Stop dreaming."
Watching the two of them united against a common enemy—me—I couldn't help but laugh.
"Since you're both so terrified I'll take a single cent, let's make it official. Starting today, we're done."
"From now on, I have nothing to do with either of you."
Mom and my sister froze, clearly not expecting me to agree so readily.
But a heartbeat later—as if afraid I'd change my mind—they scrambled to draft a severance letter.
Mom signed her name with a flourish, then shoved the paper at me.