“You didn’t think using my money without permission was wrong?”
Her eyes dropped immediately.
“I didn’t think you’d care.”
That sentence hurt more deeply than I expected.
Because she genuinely believed my role in the family was to provide quietly while asking for nothing emotionally in return.
Melissa leaned forward sharply.
“And Camila?” she asked. “Did you think she wouldn’t care either?”
My mother started crying then.
Real crying.
Not dramatic tears.
The kind that come when someone finally runs out of excuses.
She admitted the twins made her feel needed.
Important.
Wanted.
“They run to me,” she whispered shakily. “They hug me. They make me feel alive.”
I looked directly at her.
“And my daughter?” I asked softly. “Did she have to disappear for you to notice she needed you too?”
Nobody defended her this time.
Not even my older sister.
The silence in that room felt raw.
Exposed.
