“Cassie, this is my first home. You know how much this means to me. People have already brought gifts. You can’t possibly expect me to postpone everything for —”
“For my daughter?”
She let out a sigh. “You always make things so dramatic. Nancy is gone. Are you jealous that I’m finally getting something nice?”
My grip tightened. “Jealous?”
She went on. “I didn’t come because I couldn’t. I had people counting on me. Can’t you just be happy for your big sister for once? I’m finally building something.”
“I buried my child today, Rosie.”
Her tone grew colder. “And I bought my first home. Are you going to keep bringing up Nancy every time something good happens to someone else?”
My knees gave way, and I lowered myself into a kitchen chair, clutching the table’s edge.
“Is Mom there?” I asked softly.
“She was. She brought chocolate cake and left after lunch. Everyone’s been asking about you, by the way. Wondering if you’ll stop by.”
I swallowed hard. “Maybe I will,” I heard myself say.
Rosie sounded relieved. “Good. Just try to be positive, okay?”
I ended the call before she could continue. I stared at the blank screen for a moment.
Then I picked up my keys and looked at myself in the mirror.
“I won’t scream. I won’t collapse,” I said aloud. “But I will look her in the eye.”
I didn’t know what waited beyond her front door — only that staying home would let the guilt keep speaking for me.
Rosie’s new house sat at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac, freshly painted, green and gold balloons tied to the mailbox. Music spilled into the street, laughter loud and easy.
I parked across from the house and watched guests carry wrapped presents inside.
Nancy loved green balloons.
The thought nearly brought me to my knees, but I forced myself forward, walking past neighbors holding plates of food.
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