My mother greeted us at the door, a forced smile on her face, but her eyes betrayed her discomfort. I could see the letter in her hand, slightly crumpled, as if she had read and reread it multiple times, trying to find a loophole or a way to brush it off as inconsequential.

“Elena, I didn’t think you’d be back so soon,” she began, her voice laced with a false cheeriness.

I met her gaze evenly. “We need to talk, Mom.”

She hesitated but then stepped aside to let us in. It felt strange, entering my childhood home under such strained circumstances. Hannah clung to my hand, glancing around nervously.

Brittany was there too, sitting stiffly on the edge of the couch. Her expression was a mix of defiance and guilt—a mirror of my mother’s sentiments, I imagined.

“I got your letter,” my mother finally said, gesturing awkwardly with it as if it were a white flag.

“Yes, I assumed you might have some questions,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral. “You left us no choice.”

Brittany spoke up, her voice a notch too high. “It’s not like we wanted to hurt you. We just thought it was best for everyone.”

I shook my head. “You thought it was best for you. You didn’t consider Hannah or me. You treated us like we were disposable.”

My mother winced at that, and I saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes. “What do you want, Elena?”

It was a simple question, but it carried the weight of our fractured family relationship. “I want what’s fair. We need time to figure out our next steps. And Hannah deserves an apology.”

My mother’s face softened. She looked at Hannah, who was trying to appear brave but failing to hide the hurt in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Hannah. It wasn’t right to leave you out there like that.”

Hannah nodded, her grip on my hand relaxing slightly, though she remained silent.

We spent the next hour discussing logistics. I agreed to give them some time to modify their living arrangements while they assured us access to the house and our belongings. The tension was still there, but it was a step towards resolution.

That evening, Hannah and I left with the promise of stability, at least for the immediate future. As we drove away from the house, I felt a sense of relief. Our world had been upended, but we were slowly finding our footing again. I glanced at Hannah and saw her looking out the window, her expression peaceful. Despite everything, we had each other, and that was enough.