My father brushed past me into the room, as comfortable as if he’d paid for the furniture. He sat down on the leather chair and crossed one leg over the other, the posture of a man who believed he was still in charge.
“Don’t make such a scary face,” he said casually. “It’s basic risk management for parents to have a spare key to their daughter’s house. What if you collapsed? What if there was a fire? We’re always worried about you.”
Worried.
The word was almost funny.
I stared at him, at the man who’d never once asked me if I was okay when I worked eighty-hour weeks and slept in my office. The man who’d called me selfish when I wouldn’t fund Kristen’s “finding herself” phase for the third time. The man who now sat in my guest room like he owned the air.
“Risk management,” I repeated, my voice flat.
I walked to the closet and yanked it open.
Where my business suits should have hung—dark, neat, expensive fabric I’d bought as armor for boardrooms—Kristen’s clothes crowded the space. Shoes I’d never seen were stacked in messy towers. The shelf I’d reserved for spare linens held plastic shopping bags and a curling iron.
“This is theft,” I said, turning back. “Kristen, pack your things and leave. Now.”
Kristen’s expression twisted, outrage flashing.
“Otherwise what?” she shrieked. “You’re always like this, Denise. Acting like you’re the only special one.”
Her voice rose, bouncing off the walls, dramatic and practiced. “You think you built your company all by yourself? Dad raised you strictly when you were little, didn’t he? Mom cooked healthy meals to support you, didn’t she? And this is how you repay them—refusing to lend one room?”
She thrust her chin forward, eyes bright with righteous anger that had nothing to do with justice and everything to do with being denied.
“As a human being,” she spat, “you’re beyond saving.”
My mother slid an arm around Kristen’s shoulders protectively, eyes narrowed at me as if I were the aggressor.
“Denise,” she said softly, the tragic-heroine tone she used when she wanted to shame me in the gentlest possible way, “you see, Kristen is preparing to launch a new apparel brand using this house as her base. Having an address in such an upscale neighborhood will earn her credibility with business partners.”
She smiled faintly, like she’d offered an elegant solution. “Do you really have the right to crush your sister’s dream?”