Three days after I lost my job, Mom texted, “Your brother needs the apartment more than you do.” When I got home, his boxes were already in my bedroom, and Dad calmly said, “You’re unemployed. You can stay with a friend.”
That changed something. Until then, I could still imagine this as a terrible assumption made impulsively. But someone had gone through my personal files, packed my things, and prepared my home for another adult...