My Mother Left Me Her House, but Only If I Let My Brother Move in – on Christmas Morning, Everything Finally Made Sense

I sat on the floor and picked up the box.

It was lighter than I remembered.

Carefully, I peeled back the tape.

Inside were chocolates.

The cheap, old-fashioned kind Mom always bought at Christmas. Gold foil. Slightly waxy smell.

I stared, confused.

Then I saw the envelope underneath.

My name.

In her handwriting.

My throat tightened.

I sat on the couch and opened it.

I took a shaky breath.

“And I know Quentin still hasn’t told you the truth.”

My eyes flicked up.

Quentin stood in the doorway now, arms crossed, jaw tight.

I looked back at the letter.

“By the time you read this, he will finally be allowed to. But I am almost certain he will be too afraid. Too afraid to lose you.”

My hands trembled.

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