“No.” I opened the front door wide, letting the cold wind sweep through the house, clearing out the last of their sunscreen and airport champagne. “I just cleared my credit.

Now get out of my house.”

My father didn’t say a word. He turned, shoulders hunched, and walked out into the gray afternoon, looking like an old man who had finally understood that his entire life was built on sand.

Julian followed, stumbling on the porch step, his phone already ringing in his pocket—the first of many calls from creditors he’d no longer be able to dodge.

My mother stood in the doorway one last bitter second. She picked up her bag, her eyes burning into mine.

“You’ll be alone now, Maya. No husband. No child. And now no parents. Remember that when you’re sitting in this empty house.”