Here’s a rewritten version that keeps the same meaning: “You’re nothing like your sister,” my mom remarked at dinner.

“You’re not half the woman your sister is,” my mom said at dinner. I pushed my chair back and said, “Then she can start paying your rent.” Dad turned pale. “Rent? What rent?”

My father leaned back, exhaling a dramatic, stage-managed sigh. His eyes skipped over me, landing on Vivian with swelling pride.

“Speaking of big things,” he began, “Vivian helped us sort through some complex mortgage paperwork last month. She’s been such a blessing. Truly.”

A chill, icy and immediate, crawled up my spine. Mortgage paperwork? Blessing?
Vivian’s grin widened, predatory and sweet. “It wasn’t a big deal, Dad. I just wanted to make sure everything was… secure.”

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