At midnight my sister tried to bring her three children into my apartment with my mother’s key, but when she yelled at me “family helps each other”, I had already changed the lock and was waiting for her downstairs to put a stop to it.

I took a deep breath and consciously decided not to give them the explosive reaction they were clearly hoping for to justify their own behavior.

“And you have always looked at other people as if they were nothing more than tools designed to make your life more comfortable,” I said calmly.

Frank pretended to be busy with the digital logbook on his desk, but it was obvious that he was hanging on every single word of our conversation.

The air in the lobby felt thick with the smell of old rain and the sterile scent of floor wax while the silence stretched out between us.

“That is quite enough out of you, Leona, and I want you to apologize to your sister right now and take these children upstairs to bed,” my mother commanded.

“The answer is no, and I am not going to change my mind just because you are standing here and demanding it of me,” I told her.

Sienna let the handle of her heavy stroller drop to the floor with a loud thud that echoed through the high ceilings of the lobby.

“This is absolutely outrageous, and I cannot believe you are really going to leave your own nephews out on the street because of a petty tantrum,” she yelled.