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My Classic Car Collection Became a Family Battlefield, and I Had to Draw Financial Boundaries

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And she wasn’t alone.

Two strangers stepped out behind her. A man and a woman dressed in expensive casual clothing, the kind that says they’re used to being comfortable in other people’s spaces.

Natalie waved like this was completely normal. “These are my friends, Keith and Samantha,” she announced. “Keith is into vintage cars. He wanted to see your collection.”

Ezoic

My wrench froze in my hand.

“You didn’t ask me,” I said, keeping my voice level.

She shrugged like I was being dramatic. “It’s not a big deal. Keith might be interested in buying something when you sell.”

Ezoic

That sentence hit like a slap.

When you’re in a family conflict, you expect arguments. You expect guilt. You do not expect your sister to bring strangers to your garage to preview your belongings as if a sale is already scheduled.

Keith stepped toward the Porsche, hand out as if he could touch it. I moved between him and the car.

Ezoic

“Please don’t touch anything,” I said. “These aren’t for sale. And I didn’t invite anyone here.”

Samantha laughed. “Natalie said you’re really protective of your toys.”

Toys again.

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