Chapter 3

The day of the final walkthrough, I ran up the stairs.

Carrying every hope I had for the future, I pushed open the door of the new place.

I didn't stop in the living room. I went straight to the second bedroom.

The instant I pushed that door open, my whole body went rigid.

No floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. No open, empty space.

A huge raised platform bed in natural wood filled the entire room, wall to wall.

And my sister was sprawled flat out on top of it.

She still had her sneakers on, caked with mud and grit, and potato chip crumbs scattered all over the bedding.

The game blaring from her phone stabbed right into my eardrums.

"What exactly is going on here? You'd better give me an explanation."

I whipped around and stared hard at Ivan behind me.

Something guilty flickered across Ivan's eyes. He lowered his voice and came over to pull me aside.

"Millie, don't get worked up. Your mom kept begging me that day. She said your sister's a young woman, and once she comes into the city looking for work she won't even have a place to land. It's just too sad."

"I figured a platform bed is made of wood too. Put a little square table on it and you can still read just fine. There's no conflict at all."

"We're all one family. Why do you have to draw such clear lines?"

Just then came the crisp cracking of sunflower seeds from the doorway.

My mother drifted lazily into the second bedroom, spitting the shells straight onto the freshly laid wood floor.

"Exactly. It's such a small thing. Do you really have to look at Ivan like that?"

"Ivan's more sensible than you. He knows a house can't be without a guest room. When your sister brings a boyfriend home someday, isn't this perfect?"

"You're the older sister, and you've loved to fight over everything since you were little. You buy a house and you're even guarding it against your own sister. You're this precious about it, and you don't even worry about how it makes Ivan feel."

Hearing my mother's words, Ivan didn't argue.

"That's right, Millie. Why are you always so stubborn? If you'd just give a little, wouldn't it be nice to have peace in the family?"

He'd been won over by my mother that fast.

He thought I was too petty, thought my mother and my sister were the reasonable ones, the weak ones being wronged.

Right then my sister sat up on the bed.

She brushed the chip crumbs off her hands without a care and pulled a brand-new key out of her pocket.

"Sis, don't be mad at your husband. He saw me running around every day job hunting, wearing myself out, and he felt bad for me, so he gave me the spare key. Told me I could come rest here anytime."

I stared hard at that key.

Ivan hurried to explain.

"She had an interview over here yesterday. I saw that a girl on her own had nowhere to land, and it's chaotic out there, so I just handed it to her. It's one key. Don't blow it out of proportion again."

Look at him, playing generous with a house I paid for in full.

Looking at the three of them in front of me, a wave of disgust came over me, and with it a bone-deep exhaustion.

I thought I'd break down, that I'd fly into a rage and flip everything over.

But to my own surprise, all at once, I wasn't angry anymore.

Nothing kills you like a heart that's already dead.

I took a step back, and the look in my eyes turned to ice as I watched them.

"Fine. I understand now."

I was strangely calm.

"Go on and leave for tonight. It's too much of a mess here. I'll come clean it up tomorrow."

Seeing that I wasn't making a scene anymore, Ivan let out a long breath.

He clearly thought I'd taken his reasoning to heart, that I'd resigned myself and given in.

His tone went gentle again.

"I'm glad you can see sense. Family doesn't hold grudges overnight. So I'll take your mom and your sister out for a meal. Finish cleaning up and head home to rest early."