When I walked in, nothing looked wrong.
My mom, Linda, was folding laundry. My dad, Frank, was lounging with iced tea like it was any normal afternoon.
They looked up casually.
“Hey,” my dad said. “Noah get home okay?”
I felt something snap.
“You have twenty-four hours,” I said.
They blinked.
“To pack your things. You’re leaving this house.”
My dad laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
“You left my son in a car for two hours.”
Silence.
Then excuses.
“He was acting up,” my mom said quickly. “We thought it was better if he stayed out.”
“It wasn’t that long,” my dad added. “We checked on him.”
“And ate lunch with your daughter,” I said.
They didn’t deny it.
They had gone out with my sister, Lauren, and her kids.
A full table inside.
And my son… outside.
“Lauren’s kids behave,” my dad snapped. “Noah’s a handful. I’m not dealing with that if I want a peaceful meal.”
That was it.
Not just favoritism.
Something worse.
“Get out,” I said.
Chapter 3: No More Illusions
The next day, my sister called—angry, not apologetic.
“You’re overreacting,” Lauren said. “It was a misunderstanding.”
“Did you know he was in the car?” I asked.
Silence.
Then a weak excuse.
That told me everything.