My sister-in-law was taking $1,300 from my remote work every month. When I told her to stop, she yelled at me to get out of the house.For almost a year, I worked from the corner of my brother Marco’s dining room table, convincing myself I was being practical.

“To who?” I asked, even though part of me already knew.

She read the name.

Daria.

It didn’t feel real.

Not anger, not yet.

Just a hollow kind of disbelief — like my brain hadn’t caught up to what my ears had heard.

I hung up and sat there for a long time.

Then I stood up and walked into the kitchen.

Daria was exactly where she usually was at that hour — leaning against the counter, scrolling through her phone like time didn’t apply to her.

I didn’t ease into it.