Chapter 9 - The Ambush at the OfficeOn Thursday morning, I was sitting at my desk at the logistics firm, reviewing shipping manifests, when my supervisor knocked gently on my doorframe.
"Naomi," he said, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "There's a man in the lobby claiming to be your brother. He says it's an urgent family emergency."
I closed my laptop. "Thank you, Mark. I'll handle it."
I walked down the glass-paneled hallway into the reception area. Derek was pacing near the front doors, looking disheveled in a crumpled button-down shirt. The polished, successful older brother persona he had projected for a decade was fraying at the edges.
"Naomi!" he stepped forward the moment he saw me, his voice carrying across the lobby. "Finally! Do you have any idea what you're doing to Mom and Dad?"
"Derek, keep your voice down," I said calmly, stopping a few feet away. "This is my workplace."
"I don't give a damn about your workplace!" he hissed, leaning in close, though his eyes darted nervously toward the reception desk. "You're acting like a vindictive lunatic! Mom is sick with stress, the kids are sleeping on air mattresses because the upstairs room isn't ready, and you're holding a legal gun to our parents' heads over a few home repairs!"
I looked at him—really looked at him. I saw the arrogance that had been nurtured by my mother for thirty years, the absolute belief that his comfort was paramount and my sacrifices were invisible.
"A few home repairs?" I said softly, my voice laced with steel. "Four thousand for heating. Eight thousand five hundred in back property taxes so the sheriff wouldn't sell the house out from under them. Tens of thousands in maintenance while you were living in Seattle ignoring their calls."
"You lived there!" Derek snapped. "You owed them!"
"I paid my way tenfold," I replied quietly. "And I read the emails, Derek."
His face paled slightly. "What emails?"
"'Just make sure Naomi is out before the kids arrive. I don't want her ruining the vibe,'" I quoted verbatim, watching his eyes widen in realization. "'Once she's finally out, this house can feel like family again.' You two planned to toss me to the curb the moment you needed my bedroom."
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Derek swallowed hard, his posture dropping an inch as his confident front collapsed. "Naomi... Mom said you were fine with moving... She said you were planning to get your own place anyway..."
"Mom lied to you, and you were happy to benefit from it," I said, stepping back toward the secure doors. "Tell Mom her thirty days started on Friday. Have a good day, Derek."
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