Daniel’s laugh echoed across the porch, sharp and dismissive.
“You’re not getting these keys,” he said, twirling them between his fingers. “You handed the house over. That makes it fair game.”
Fair game.
I took a slow breath, forcing myself to stay calm—not for him, but for my parents, who were standing there, shaken and humiliated.
“You think this is a game?” I asked quietly.
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