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“No,” I said, holding up a hand. “We need to talk about this,” I insisted.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Vera. The house closed today, and the funds were remitted. We have 15 days to clear out.”

Snoh snorted. “So, that’s it?”

“That’s it,” Dad said, not sounding remorseful at all.

Snoh shook his head. “No, that’s not fucking it. You need to explain how we got here, and why you didn’t feel the need to discuss it with us first!”

Dad narrowed his eyes. “Last time I checked, my name was on the deed.”

A humorless laugh escaped Snoh, and my heart broke a little more when I watched him wipe away fresh tears.

This wasn’t just a house. It was the last place in the world where Mom still felt alive.

She was in the kitchen where she’d cooked Sunday dinners with music playing too loud. In the flowers she’d insisted on planting outside and the fluffy throw blankets that sat folded in a basket by the couch. Sometimes I could walk through the front door after months away and, for one fleeting second, forget she was gone.

The house still felt like her, and coming home had always felt like being wrapped in a hug I couldn’t get from her anymore.

And now that was gone too.

Was it his legal right to sell the home? Absolutely. But blindsiding us was a choice—a poorly made one.

“How much?” Snoh finally asked.

“How much what?”

“How much gambling debt are you in?”

“Total?”

Snoh pointed at him. “I didn’t interrupt my training and fly in from Denver so that you can play in my face! How much money did you owe for gambling debts before the sale of the home?”

Dad shifted uncomfortably on his feet before answering. “A little north of $2 million.”

My mouth dropped, and Snoh’s eyes bulged from his head.

“W-what did you say?” Snoh whispered.

“Two million,” he replied, finally looking Snoh in the eyes.

Snoh cleared his throat and stabbed his finger at Dad again. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Because this is deeper than you missing Mom.”

Dad cleared his throat, and his eyes glistened with fresh tears. “I’m entering an extended treatment program. I’ll likely be there through the holidays.”

“Are you referring to the same treatment center I tried to get you in last year?”

“I am.”

Snoh scoffed. “What’s the fucking point? You’re just gonna find yourself in debt again. Especially now that you have a few million dollars in the bank after the sale!”

“I net $3.5 million, and the funds are being deposited into a trust that I will not have direct access to. My attorney will make sure that my living expenses are paid. Then I’ll receive a monthly stipend for personal expenses. You and your sisters are the beneficiaries when I pass.”

Snoh shook his head. “Stop. I don’t want to hear no more. Are there boxes in the garage?”

“Yes. Help yourself.”

Snoh stormed out of the house to the garage. I didn’t find my voice again until he was upstairs, yanking open drawers.