PART 3

My father finally came onto the phone.

“Clara, please. We don’t have enough money for three international tickets home.”

“You should have considered that before trying to transfer a house you didn’t own.”

Silence.

Mom’s voice became much quieter.

“You know about the deed?”

“I know everything.”

Then I told them not to return to the coastal property.

Their occupancy agreement had been revoked.

The locks were changed.

Any future access would have to go through my attorney.

Mom began crying.

“We’re your parents.”

That line would have destroyed me a year earlier.

This time, it didn’t.

“You were my parents when you needed bills paid,” I said. “You were my parents when you wanted a luxury home. But when you had one chance to show me where I belonged, you gave my seat away.”