“We sold your empty house,” Mom declared at Christmas; “You never use it.” Dad counted the cash smugly; I sipped my coffee; State Department security arrived: “Unauthorized sale of diplomatic residence…”

“Alexis.” Dad’s voice boomed from the living room. “Come in here. We have news.”

I returned with the wine, passed it to Mom, and sat down. Dad, Thomas Peton 3, stood beside the fireplace like he was preparing a boardroom presentation. At 67, he still ruled Peton Capital Management with an iron fist, overseeing $800 million in client assets and making sure everyone knew it.

“Your mother and I have made an executive decision regarding your property situation,” he announced.

A cold feeling settled in my stomach.

“My property situation?”

“That house you bought in Spring Valley?” Mom said, waving her hand dismissively. “The one you never use. It’s been sitting empty for 3 years, Alexis. Just sitting there accumulating dust and wasting equity.”

“It’s not empty,” I said quietly. “I use it when I’m in town.”

“You’re never in town,” Natalie interjected. “You’re always traveling for work.” She made air quotes. “Doing whatever it is you do. That house sits vacant 340 days a year. It’s wasteful.”

“We sold it,” Dad announced proudly. “Got an excellent price to $2.8 million. Well above market value. The buyer wanted a quick close, so we handled everything.”

For a second, the room seemed to tilt.