01/10/2025
Dad remarried half a year after Mom died. His new spouse Monica moved in. I (F30) have my own apartment but Emma, my 16-year-old sister, still lived with Dad.
From the beginning, Monica erased Mom’s presence. Family portraits went into storage. Every photo of Mom was boxed up, placed in Emma's room.
Monica, a month after moving in:
"GOD...THESE PHOTOS ARE DEPRESSING."
Emma whispered one day:
"It's like Mom never existed. I don't even belong here anymore."
Later, Monica announced her pregnancy—twins on the way. Dad was full of pride. Emma didn’t speak much at dinner. She told me she sobbed herself to sleep.
Yesterday changed everything.
Emma quietly read over the weekend while alone at home. Dad and Monica came back earlier than scheduled.
Monica walked in, sniffed dramatically, and said:
"Why is it SO DARK? Has she even opened a window?"
She burst into Emma’s room.
"You're still here?"
Emma (confused): "Where else would I be?"
Monica: "We require the spare room. Twins are coming. All your belongings, including your mom’s boxes, must go."
Emma (upset): "That's not clutter. That's my life."
Monica (cold): "Was your life. Focus is on my family now."
She called out:
"Derek! Tell your daughter she needs to go!"
Dad’s response was minimal.
"Maybe it's for the best, Em. Just for now."
Emma called that night, sobbing.
"SHE KICKED ME OUT. SAID I'M NOT A PRIORITY. DAD JUST STOOD THERE."
With a laundry basket at hand, I asked:
"Where are you?"
"Auntie's. Had nowhere else."
My pulse raced. Emma, still grieving, had been forced out.
"I'll handle it," I promised.
Following morning, I went to our old home—once lively with Mom’s joy, now clean and scented like citrus.
Everything was unfamiliar. The cozy atmosphere was gone, photos replaced with bland prints.
Monica, in silk pajamas, ate yogurt in the kitchen.
She didn’t react.
"Well, well," she remarked. "Look who decided to visit."
I faced her, voice cool:
"I'm here to pack."
Her lips curled up:
"Perfect. You can collect Emma’s things for you
