“I want to add something,” she said. “Some of you may be wondering about Briana.”
Dozens of eyes turned toward me.
My face burned.
“Briana is a capable, independent young woman,” Mom continued. “She has a good job and her own apartment. She left years ago and built her own life. Richard would be proud of that.”
Then she tilted her head just slightly.
“She doesn’t need the house. Not the way Marcus does. He’s had a few setbacks. He needs family support right now.”
Somewhere to my left, Aunt Dorothy murmured, “Well, she did walk away from them for years.”
Mom looked directly at me.
“Your dad would understand. Your sister can find another place.”
A distant cousin leaned toward me and said softly, “Honey, your mother’s right. You’ve done well for yourself.”
I wanted to tell them everything.
The scholarships. The double shifts. The years spent building a life from nothing while Marcus burned through every advantage handed to him.
But I stood there in silence, my throat locked, feeling smaller than I had in years.