The house felt different as she stepped inside.
Not unfamiliar.
Just… clearer.
Rebecca turned quickly, her voice rising. “Olivia, you can’t just—this is still my home. I’ve lived here for years!”
Olivia set the folder down carefully on the table before turning to face her.
“I know,” she said calmly.
Rebecca blinked, thrown off by the lack of anger.
“But living somewhere doesn’t give you the right to take it from someone else,” Olivia continued. “Not like this.”
Rebecca opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Olivia’s voice remained steady.
“Family doesn’t pack your things and leave them outside after a twelve-hour shift,” she said quietly. “That’s not care. That’s not love.”
The words hung in the air.
Rebecca looked away.
Olivia took a small breath.
