I Became the Guardian of My Five Sisters – Two Years Later, Our Father Came Back to Take Our House, but He Didn’t Expect the Trap I Had Set for Him

There were six girls in my family.

Then my youngest sister turned one, and our father sat us down at the kitchen table and announced that he had “met someone.”

He said it casually, like he was discussing a change in the weather instead of detonating our lives.

My mother looked at him for a long moment and asked, very quietly, “What does that mean?”

He didn’t hesitate.

“It means I want something different.”

“You have six daughters,” she said.

He gave a small shrug. “I’m not saying I won’t help.”

That was the first lie.