I could hear my sister hesitating, searching for words that wouldn’t come. The silence on the other end was thick with realization. It was as if our entire relationship was being reevaluated in real-time.

In the meantime, Sarah and I focused on preparing for our baby. We decorated the nursery, attended prenatal classes, and went on long, peaceful walks. I could see the stress lifting off her, and it confirmed every decision I’d made the night of the dinner. Our little family came first, and it was my job to protect that, no matter what.

My mother was a different story. The house on Elm Street was officially on the market within a week. I received a call from her, a rare event since I’d cut her allowance. Her voice was strained, perhaps with a pinch of humility. “David, can we talk about this? You can’t just sell the house.”