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Natalie wandered deeper into the garage, glancing around like she owned the place. She trailed her finger near the Aston Martin’s paint and said something about how she remembered driving it.
I turned to her sharply. “You have never driven that car.”
That was the moment something inside me hardened into certainty.
It was not just that she didn’t respect the cars. It was that she didn’t respect me. She didn’t see my boundaries as real, only as obstacles.
“Everyone needs to leave,” I said. “Now.”
Keith and Samantha shifted awkwardly and backed away. Natalie’s face changed immediately, sliding into outrage like she’d practiced it.
“You’re so selfish,” she snapped. “You’d rather hoard all this stuff than help your own sister.”
I didn’t yell. I didn’t plead. I simply repeated, “Leave.”
She stormed out, and before she got into her car, she turned back and delivered the line that made my skin go cold.
“It doesn’t matter. They’ll all be mine soon. Dad says you’ll come around when you realize what’s really important.”
