I yanked open the junk drawer. Menus, batteries, coupons. And at the bottom, a crisp white envelope with a red stripe: SECOND NOTICE. DELINQUENT.
Addressed to me.
I had never seen it.
My hands went numb.
I heard Sabine come in behind me. “Coralie, we can fix this. If we all stay calm—”
“Calm?” I turned, holding the letter. “You opened my mail.”
“It was addressed to the house,” she said, but her eyes slid away.
“You opened my mail, you forged my signature, you moved my life into a garage, and you want me to be calm.”
Darien stood in the doorway, hovering, afraid to come closer. “Mom, I know. I know I messed up. I was so ashamed. Every time I tried to tell you, Sabine said you’d cut us off. That you’d choose the house over us.”
“Did I ever choose a house over you?” I asked him. My voice broke for the first time. “When did I ever make you feel I would love a wall more than my child?”
He broke. Fully. His face crumpled and he made a sound that was half sob, half gasp, and he stumbled forward and caught the edge of the counter because his knees gave out.
“I didn’t know how to be a man without Dad,” he whispered. “I didn’t know how to tell you we were failing. I thought if Sabine had a nice room, if we looked successful, maybe we would be.”
I looked at Sabine.
She was no longer smiling. Her arms were wrapped around herself now, not crossed in confidence but hugging tight, her perfect composure cracking. For a second I saw not a villain, but a young woman in over her head, drowning and pulling everyone down with her.
But I also saw the gray walls. The cracked glass. The envelope she hid.
Pity didn’t erase what she’d done.
“Pack your things,” I said quietly.
Sabine’s head snapped up. “What?”
“Pack your things and leave my house. Tonight.”
“You can’t— Darien lives here too—”
“Darien is my son,” I said. “You are a guest who has overstayed and stolen. You will leave. Tonight.”
“Darien!” Sabine turned to him, her voice rising. “Are you going to let her speak to me like that? After everything I’ve done for this family?”
Darien was still gripping the counter, tears running freely now. He looked at his wife, then at me, his mother sitting in her own kitchen holding a delinquent notice she never knew existed.
He didn’t move to her.
Sabine saw it. The realization hit her like cold water. Her mouth opened, closed. She laughed once, sharp and disbelieving.
“Unbelievable. I try to save us and you both— Fine. Fine! I’ll go. But don’t call me when the bank comes, Coralie. Don’t call me when they take this precious house because your son is a coward who can’t pay his debts.”
She grabbed her bag from the hook by the door, her hands jerky, her movements too fast. She knocked a chair. She didn’t pick it up.
At the front door she paused, expecting Darien to follow. To choose her.
He didn’t.
The door slammed. The whole house shivered.
