My parents purchased a home for my sister, then slid the mortgage documents my way. “You’ve got the savings. Time to step up for family,” they said. I refused. They hit me with a $350k lawsuit. Then the judge asked me one question… My response left everyone speechless …

I didn’t cry. I just stood there while Jennifer smiled and grandma squeezed my arm and grandpa whispered, you’re free. I thought it was over.

It wasn’t. A week later, I got a call from grandma. Your mother came by yesterday.

She said voice tired. She asked us to release her inheritance early. For what I asked, though, I already knew.

To pay off Rachel’s mortgage, she said. I sat down. What did you say I told her we haven’t decided who gets what? That the will is ours to manage? Did she get angry? No, grandma said.

She cried. She begged us not to disinherit her. I didn’t know what hurt more that she asked or that she cried over money, not me.

Months passed. Quiet ones. I closed on a small house, nothing big, but mine.

I painted the kitchen yellow planted tomatoes, adopted a gray cat that slept beside my laptop every night. Rachel rented out her house, moved back in with our parents. Mom babysat while Rachel worked.

Somehow they made it work. I didn’t call. I didn’t write.

Then, almost a year after the trial, an email landed in my inbox. No subject line. Just this, we heard you bought a house.

Since you now have extra space, we think it would be best if Rachel and the boys moved in with you. It would be much more convenient for them there. Let us know when they can move in.

Love, mom and dad. I read it twice. I didn’t get angry.

I just replied. I will not be hosting Rachel or the boys. If you contact me again with these kinds of demands, I will report the harassment to the police.

Do not email me again. Then I hit send, blocked the email, and made tea. These days my house smells like fresh basil and coffee.

The cat marble gray and solemn sits on the windowsill most mornings watching birds he’ll never chase. I painted the kitchen yellow like I always said I would, and the tomatoes out back are finally coming in. It’s quiet here.

No voices raised. No questions I don’t want to answer. Grandma and grandpa visit often…