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’s no prettier word for it.

But we stayed together.

And after two years, life began to feel a little less like drowning.

I graduated. I found a full-time job. The panic in my chest stopped being constant. We made routines. Sunday pancakes. Homework at the kitchen table. Cheap movie nights on the couch under one blanket because turning the heat up too high wasn’t always an option.

We were still grieving. Still stretched. Still one unexpected bill away from fear.

But we were standing.

Then one Sunday morning, while I was flipping pancakes, someone knocked on the front door.