“Are you really giving Tyler the cabin,” I asked, keeping my voice steady, “when the mortgage on this house is still behind and Dad’s medical bills from last year haven’t been fully paid?”
The warmth in the room shifted immediately.
Tyler rolled his eyes. Rachel’s smile faded. Denise folded her napkin with slow, deliberate precision, the way she always did when she was about to deliver a verdict.
“That is not your concern,” she said.
“It becomes my concern every time you reach out asking for help,” I replied.
Tyler leaned back with the easy confidence of someone who had never been asked to carry anything heavy. “Come on, Emma. The cabin is family property.”
“Then use family money,” I said.
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