𝗠𝗘𝗔𝗡𝗧 𝗧𝗢 𝗕𝗘 // 𝗖.𝗙

𝖯 𝖠 𝖱 𝖳 𝖸

THE TEENS stood in stunned silence, their faces ashen and eyes wide, the air thick with the weight of Julia's words. "The house is sold."

Sylvia felt her world not just shatter, but implode, the fragments spiraling into an abyss of despair.

She clung to Steven, her grip desperate and trembling, as if her brother were the last anchor in a storm-tossed sea.

The last tangible piece of Susannah, the house that held not just memories, but the very essence of their shared history, was being ripped away.

The scent of her perfume still lingered in the air.

"It's sold?" Conrad repeats, his voice barely audible, his jaw a rigid line of disbelief and burgeoning fury. "You—you sold this house in the last twelve hours?"

His eyes, usually pools of calm, now burned with a mix of betrayal and raw anger, reflecting the sudden upheaval of his world.

He couldn't help but feel like a piece of his mother was taken with the sale.

Julia nods, her expression unyielding, a mask of practicality that belied the turmoil within. "Yes. To a—a lovely family with three children and some kind of poodle mix."

Her voice was devoid of emotion, each word a hammer blow to the already fragile atmosphere.

She couldn't meet their eyes, instead focusing on a point just beyond their shoulders.

"Well, it can't just be over." Jeremiah says, his voice laced with desperation, his hand tightening in Beau's grip as if seeking a lifeline.

He couldn't fathom the finality of it all, the abrupt severing of ties to a place that held the tapestry of their lives.

The memories, the laughter, the tears—all seemed to fade with the setting sun.

"It is." Julia's voice was cold and final, a steel gate slamming shut on any hope. "Uh, I'm gonna need your keys, please."

She stretches out her hand, palm up, waiting for the keys to be placed in them, a symbol of surrender.

Conrad's eyes flick back to Sylvia, who could only stare at the ground, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs, each one a testament to the depth of her grief.

It pained him to see her that way, her spirit crushed beneath the weight of loss, but he didn't want to cause a bigger scene, to further disrupt the already volatile situation.

Slowly, he took the keys off his keychain, his movements heavy with reluctance, each click of the metal a mournful echo.

He mutters, his voice thick with bitterness. "I bet you're really enjoying this."

Julia could only sigh in response, a sound that held a mixture of exhaustion and resignation, stretching her hand out closer to them, silently urging her nephews for the keys, the keys that represented not just a house, but the end of an era.

"Mom." Skye's voice cracks, the fragile sound slicing through the thick, suffocating silence that had settled over the room like a shroud.

Their eyes, wide and glistening with unshed tears, pleaded with Julia.

"Please, don't do this."

Julia slowly turns, her face a mask of conflicting emotions – a battleground of weariness, resentment, and a flicker of something Skye couldn't quite decipher.

Disbelief etched itself onto her features as her gaze landed on her child. "Skye, really?"

The words laced with a sharp edge that made Skye flinch inwardly.