“You’re so independent!” her parents said, then secretly gifted a three-bedroom flat to her younger sister.
Anna was pushing her trolley through the shopping centre when someone called out:
“Annie! Hi!”
She turned and saw Marissa, her sisters friend, beaming as she reached for a hug.
“How are you? Listen, I wanted to askwhat should I get Lydia for her housewarming? The place is amazing, three bedrooms right in the city centre!”
“What housewarming?”
The trolley stopped on its own.
“What do you mean? Shes moving into Grans old flat! Said your parents gave it to her. Lucky girl, your sister!”
Anna felt everything inside her tighten. That flat had been rented out for three yearsshe even recognised the tenants.
And shed quietly hoped that one day theyd sell it, split the money, and shed finally pay off her mortgage early.
“Has she moved in already?”
“Not yet, but shes throwing a party next week.”
An hour later, Anna was at Lydias tiny one-bed in the suburbs. The buzzer was broken, so she knocked.
“Annie?” Lydia opened the door in paint-splattered overalls, face flushed, a rag in her hand. “Why didnt you call?”
“Ran into Marissa. She asked what to get you for your housewarming.”
The rag dropped. Lydia scooped it up, wiped her hands, and stepped back.
“Wait a sec, I justneed the loo.”
The bathroom door shut, but the thin walls of the old flat carried every word.
“Mum? Annie knows About the flat Shes here What do I do?”
Anna scanned the room. Boxes everywhere”Kitchen,” “Books,” “Clothes.” A stack of papers on the sofa.
Lydia emerged, tense.
“Look, dont make a drama out of it. Youre a grown womanyouve got your own place.”
“Lyd, you got nearly three hundred grand. Just like that!”
“So what? It was a gift. Would you have said no?”
“Maybe not. But I wouldnt have lied to my sisters face.”
“I didnt lie! I just didnt mention it.”
“Whats the difference?”
Lydia sank onto the sofa, hands over her face.
“Annie, what do you want? The flat back? Ive already booked renovations, hired a designer.”
“I dont want anything. I just know my place in this family now.”
“Oh, stop! Youre strong, independent. Im marriedMax lost his job, we needed it more.”
“Max lost his job? When?”
“Last year. We told Mum and Dad, and they helped.”
Anna nodded slowly. So theyd lied to their parents too.
“Did my twenty-year mortgage factor into who needed it more?”
“God, Annie, drop it! The flats mine, end of. Stop counting other peoples money.”
Anna turned for the door.
“Thats it? Youll just walk off in a huff?”
“Im not angry, Lyd. I just know the real you now.”
At home, Anna called her mother.
“Mum, we need to talk.”
“Lydia already told me. Why are you making such a fuss? Its just a gift.”
“You promised me Grans flat would be sold and split.”
“I did but things changed. Lydias married, Max has no job.”
“And my mortgage isnt a problem?”
“You manage on your own. You always do.”
Half an hour later, her father rang.
“Love, dont fret. Its awkward, sure.”
“Awkward, Dad? You looked me in the eye for three years and let me hope.”
“Well we thought youd understand. Youre so independent.”
Yes. Independent. So she could pay two grand a month and never complain.
Sunday lunch at her parents was sacred. Anna went, as always. Her daughter, Sophie, played on a tablet; Lydias husband, Max, told jokes; her mother bustled with pots.
Everyone pretended nothing had happened.
“Lyd and I are buying another flat,” Max said, serving salad. “New build. Weve got the depositwell rent Grans out.”
Anna froze, fork mid-air.
“Rent it? What about the housewarming?”
“Plans changed,” Lydia said, slicing meat without looking up. “The citys too noisy. We want something modern.”
The fork clattered onto the plate.
“So you gave her a three-hundred-grand flat just so she could buy another?”
Her father choked on his tea. Her mother spun from the stove.
“Whats wrong with that? Young people should better themselves!”
“Mum, am I old? Ill be paying my mortgage till Im fifty.”
“You chose to take the loan!”
Anna stood.
“Sophie, were leaving.”
“Youve not finished!” her mother snapped.
“Were done. Years ago.”
In the hallway, Anna spotted the open bedroom door. A stack of papers on the nightstand. On topthe deed of gift.
She checked the date: 15th March 2021.
In the car, Sophie asked, “Mum, why did we leave?”
“Because adults sometimes lie. And refuse to admit it.”
At home, Anna found a photo from her own housewarming. One candle, a cheap bottle of wine, the caption: “Home at last!”
15th March 2021.
The same day her family stood in a solicitors office, handing Lydia three hundred grand.
Now she knew her exact worth to them.
Her parents called nonstop for a weekAnna ignored them. Then a text from her mother: “Have you lost your mind? Money over family?”
“Mum, Im not destroying anything. Ive just stopped pretending.”
“Pretending what?”
“That you have two daughters. Not one you love and one whos convenient.”
A month later, her parents asked to meet. A café, solemn faces.
“Annie, weve talked,” her father began. “Well give you fifty grand for your mortgage.”
“Where from?”
“Lydia will lend it from the rent,” her mother said.
Anna stirred her coffee. So even this pittance came by Lydias grace.
“No thanks.”
“What? You wanted help!”
“I wanted honesty. Not scraps from her table.”
The next day, Anna left the family group chat. That evening, Sophie asked, “Mum, why dont we see Granny anymore?”
“Because they decided we can manage alone.”
“Can we?”
“Of course, love. Were strong.”
Six months passed. Anna refinanced her mortgage, took on extra work. She skipped family gatheringstoo busy.
Then, in the same shopping centre, she bumped into Lydia, her trolley full of luxury groceries.
“Annie!” Lydia grinned. “How are you? Weve movedseventy square metres, designer finish!”
“Congratulations.”
“Were renting the old onetwo grand a month pure profit. Why so cold? Mum and Dad are worried.”
“Worried?”
“Well, yes. They say you abandoned family over money. How could you?”
Anna studied her sisters designer coat, bag worth half her salary.
“Lyd, do you really think its about money?”
“What else?”
“That for three years, you all lied to my face. But youd never understand.”
“Suit yourself! Stay bitter!”
That night, Anna stared at her housewarming photo. Back then, shed felt alone.
Now she knew: shed always been alone in that “loving” familyjust convenient. Now, she was free.
She opened her banking app. A hundred and fifty grand left on the mortgage. Six more years at two grand a month.
But every penny was the price of no longer pretending. Of knowing her real worthfar higher than her family ever did.
Let them judge. Some bridges arent meant to be kept.
