The tension in the room was palpable. My brother, normally the calm diplomat, was visibly shaken. He paced back and forth, his eyes occasionally darting to the clock ticking down to the deadline I’d set. Melissa, his fiancée, stood beside him, arms crossed defensively, her face a mask of indignation.
“Natalie, please,” James finally said, his voice softer, cajoling. “This isn’t about you. This is about us—our family.”
I looked him straight in the eyes, feeling a pang of the old affection I’d once had for him. “And what about me, James? Isn’t family supposed to support one another? Isn’t that what we grew up believing?”
