That shocked everyone.
Especially Tessa.
“You’re choosing him?”
She screamed it in the driveway while movers carried boxes behind them.
Dad looked at her.
“No.”
He sounded exhausted.
“I’m choosing me.”
I heard about that later from Mom.
Apparently Tessa stood there for several seconds, completely speechless.
Then she got into her car and drove away.
For once, nobody chased her.
Closing happened on Friday.
The buyers were a couple named Jordan and Elise.
They had a three-year-old son and another baby on the way.
I met them briefly during the final walk-through.
Elise stood in the living room with one hand resting on her belly.
The same room where Clare had been told to sit on the floor.
“This house feels warm,” she said.
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because houses remember nothing.
People do.
Walls don’t hold loyalty.
Addresses don’t define family.
