Chapter 2

Cindy wasn’t wrong.

My parents had passed away when I was young. My dad, Steve, was a company owner, and my mom, Mary, was an architect.

Seven years ago, they were in a car accident and both became comatose.

That year, I was about to take my college entrance exams, juggling between school and the hospital. It quickly became too much, and I started thinking about hiring a nurse.

When Uncle Mark found out, he came to me and said, “Sierra, you don’t need to hire a nurse. Aunt Linda and I can take care of them.”

I wasn’t sure about it.

Uncle Mark had always been kind to me, but taking care of one person in a coma was already hard, let alone two.

“It’s no trouble,” he said, tears welling in his eyes. “They’re my sister and brother-in-law, after all. No one will care for them better than family.”

Plus, Mrs. Hudson, who shared a hospital room with my parents, told me some nurses don’t take care of patients properly. Bedsores, neglect — it wasn’t uncommon.

After thinking it over, I agreed and paid Uncle Mark and Aunt Linda triple the normal rate to take care of my parents.

They did a great job. Every time I visited, there was no smell or mess on them.

They looked after my parents for over a year before both passed away.

I went to college in another city. Some people suggested I sell the estate house.

But I couldn’t. This house had been my parents' marital home, every tree and room designed by my mother.

I wanted someone to take care of the house while I was away.

When Uncle Mark heard this, he volunteered.

And so, they moved in — and stayed for years.

When I started grad school, Uncle Mark and Aunt Linda urged me to move back home, saying they could help look after me.

After today’s confrontation with Cindy, I finally understood why she had been distant with me all along.

After Jason and Cindy left, I asked Uncle Mark, “Does Cindy not know about the house?”

Aunt Linda smiled nervously. “That’s my fault. I told Cindy and her family that the house was ours.”

“You know Jason’s family insisted they wouldn’t marry him off unless he had a house. But you know we don’t have money. So, we had to say the house was ours.”

I could understand that.

Uncle Mark had never been responsible. My parents had arranged several jobs for him, but he never stuck with any of them, always relying on my family’s support to start his own.

But in recent years, Uncle Mark and Aunt Linda had been good to me. I gently said:

“You can only hide the truth for so long. It’s better to explain this to Cindy sooner rather than later. If she really needs a house, I have another one I could let them live in.”

Uncle Mark replied, “Sierra, you’ve done more than enough for us. Don’t worry. I would never take advantage of you.”

Hearing that, tears welled up in my eyes.

“Uncle Mark, we’re family. Don’t say that.”

Without Uncle Mark, I would have had no home.

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