confused and scared. The room went silent—until my mom, Helen, stood up. In a voice as calm as it was cutting, she said, “Deborah, my daughter owns this apartment. Solely. If anyone’s leaving, it’s you.” Deborah sputtered, turning to Todd for support. But he finally stepped up: “You’re not staying here, Mom. And you will never speak about Meredith like that again.” Deborah stormed out. Later, we learned she’d sold her home, assuming we’d be her fallback plan. Instead,
she ended up staying with a cousin she used to insult. That night, Todd and I lay in bed with Meredith sleeping peacefully between us. We hadn’t just defended our home—we’d protected our family. And for the first time, I realized we were no longer living in the shadow of my past. We were building something real.