“I’m not here to punish anyone,” I said. “I’m here because this is what Dad chose. He made that choice when he was healthy, and he kept it in place for fifteen years. That tells me everything I need to know.”

I looked at Marcus.

“He saw what was coming. He was right.”

Uncle Frank tightened his hold on Marcus’s arm as my brother leaned forward.

Then I turned to Mom.

“You can stay in the house. I’m not throwing you out. We’ll draw up a lease for one dollar a month, renewable every year. But Marcus does not live there. That is final.”

“You can’t—”

“I can,” I said. “The house belongs to my LLC.”

Then I faced Marcus again.

“You need help. Real help. Not more money to throw at your debts. If you enter a legitimate ninety-day treatment program, I’ll support that. But I will not fund anything else.”

I picked up my bag.

“I didn’t ask for this. But I’m not apologizing for honoring what Dad chose to leave me.”

Then I walked out.

I was halfway down the hall when I heard my grandmother’s cane tapping behind me.

“Don’t apologize,” she said before I could speak.

She took both my hands in hers and held them tightly.