I stopped cold outside the doorway.

Then I stepped inside, smiled, and sat through dinner as though I had heard nothing.

For the next three weeks, I let my sister enthusiastically arrange her move.

I never stopped her.

Never warned her.

I simply watched her box up her belongings, book movers, and prepare to claim my apartment.

Then moving day came.

The security guard blocked her at the gate.

That was when the 79 calls started.

PART 1

On Christmas Eve, I learned my family had already decided my apartment would go to my sister—even though I still lived there.

What made it worse was that no one intended to ask me first.

A little after seven, I reached my parents’ house carrying the roasted meat Mom had requested and a chocolate cake I had picked up on the way.

Before I entered the dining room, my younger sister Chloe’s voice carried down the hall.

“So I can actually start moving my things in next month?”

My mother laughed lightly.

“Of course, sweetie.

Jessi doesn’t need all that space anyway.

She lives alone.

She can easily rent a small studio near her corporate office.”

I stayed frozen just outside the room, gripping the edge of the cake box.

Chloe spoke again.