Clara started crying again, quieter now, more desperate than dramatic.
“They’ve been calling,” she said. “Making threats. They know where we’re staying. They know our routines.”
My mother stepped forward as if she could physically push guilt into my body.
“We’re scared,” she said. “Really scared, Lara.”
I did feel bad. I’m not made of stone. Fear is contagious, and this room was thick with it.
“That’s terrible,” I said. “But I still don’t understand why I’m here.”
My mother inhaled, then dropped the bomb like it was a reasonable request.
“We know you bought a house,” she said. “A nice one. We think you should sell it and help Clara pay off these debts.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. The audacity stole the air from my lungs.
“Are you out of your mind?” I finally said.
“You’re young,” my mother pressed on, talking over me like my words were background noise. “You can earn another house. Clara and Michael could be seriously hurt if they don’t pay this money back.”
I looked around the room at all of them, and it was like seeing the family dynamic laid bare on an operating table.
“So let me get this straight,” I said slowly, voice getting colder with each word. “You kicked me out of the family five years ago because I wouldn’t give Clara money. Now that business has failed, and you want me to sell my house to bail her out.”
“Family helps family,” my father said, as if he hadn’t disowned me.
“Family?” I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You told me I wasn’t family anymore. Remember? You cut me off completely.”
Clara’s tears spilled faster. “I know we messed up,” she said. “But this is different. These people aren’t going to just take us to court. They’re going to hurt us.”
“Then maybe you should have thought about that before you borrowed money,” I said.
Michael’s face reddened. “You have no idea what kind of pressure we’re under.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I don’t. But I noticed the Porsche and the Mercedes in the driveway. Maybe start by selling those.”
“We need those cars for work,” Clara snapped, suddenly sharp.
“You need them more than you need to be safe?” I asked.
My mother stepped closer, voice rising. “This house you bought—if you sold it, you could pay off Clara’s debt and still have money left for a nice apartment.”
A nice apartment.
The phrase hit an old nerve, like they were trying to shove me back into the cramped life I’d clawed my way out of.