Chapter 2: The House That Was Never Hers
“Regina stole everything.””
The words felt heavier after I said them out loud.
For a moment, there was nothing on the other end of the phone except silence.
Not the uncomfortable kind.
The kind where someone is trying to understand how the world they knew has suddenly cracked open.
“Quinn,” my father finally said, his voice low.
“Where are you?””
I looked through the windshield.
Josie sat in the passenger seat, wrapped in my Army jacket. She was holding her stuffed rabbit with both hands, staring out the window like she was afraid to move.
“Outside the farm.””
Another pause.
Then his voice changed.
“Did Regina hurt my granddaughter?””
I closed my eyes.
That was the question I had been avoiding.
Because if I answered honestly, I had to admit something that made me sick.
I had trusted the wrong person.
“She didn’t hit her,” I whispered.
My father exhaled.
“But?””
I looked at Josie’s dirty sweater.
The sleeves covered her fingers because they were too long.
“But she abandoned her.””
My father didn’t speak.
“She had Josie sleeping in the old hog shed.””
The silence that followed was different.
It was the kind of silence that came before a storm.
“My God,” he finally said.
“I thought she was safe.””
My voice cracked.
“I checked every week. Every Sunday. She was always sitting in that pink room.””
“Quinn—”
“She was never in that room, was she?””
I didn’t know if I was asking my father or myself.
My hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“She made her sit there during video calls,” I said.
“She made everything look perfect.””
Josie turned toward me.
“Mommy?””
I immediately softened my voice.
“I’m right here, sweetheart.””
“Are we leaving?””
I looked at her.
Eight years old.
Eight years old and asking if she was finally allowed to leave.
“Yes,” I said.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Really?””
“Yes.””
She looked down at the rabbit in her lap.
“Do I have to go back?””
The question nearly destroyed me.
“No.””
I reached over and touched her hand.
“You never have to go back there again.””
For the first time all day, my daughter smiled.
It was tiny.
Barely there.
But it was real.
“Where will we go?””
I looked out at the farmhouse.
At the place where I had imagined her growing up.
At the place where my sister had turned my trust into a weapon.
“We’re going somewhere safe.””
My father cleared his throat.
“Bring her here.””
I swallowed.
“Dad…”
“No.””
His voice was firm.
“Don’t argue with me, Quinn. Bring my granddaughter home.””
Home.
That word hit differently.
Because I suddenly realized I had spent years thinking home was a place.
A house.
A bedroom.
A piece of land.
But home was supposed to be the people who protected you.
And Regina had never protected us.
“I’ll be there in forty minutes,” my father said.
“Dad, I don’t want you getting involved.””
A bitter laugh came through the phone.
“Your sister got involved when she put an eight-year-old child in a shed.””
I looked back toward the farmhouse.
The curtains on the upstairs windows moved.
Someone was watching.
“Dad.””
“Yes?””
“Don’t call her.””
“I wasn’t planning to.””
“Why?””
Because a part of me already knew.
Regina would lie.
She would twist everything.
She would make herself the victim.
And my father knew her better than anyone.
“I’m not calling Regina,” he said.
“I’m calling my lawyer.””
Forty minutes later, my father’s truck pulled into the driveway of the small motel where Josie and I had stopped.
I chose the motel because I needed a place away from the farm.
Away from Regina.
Away from the memories.
The room smelled like old carpet and cleaning chemicals.
It wasn’t beautiful.
It wasn’t a pink bedroom.
But when Josie curled up on the bed, she looked safer than she had all year.
My father walked in carrying a folder.
He was seventy years old.
His hair had gone completely white.
But when he stepped into that room and saw his granddaughter, he looked ten years younger.
Not because he was happy.
Because he was angry.
“Come here, sweetheart.””
Josie hesitated.
Then she ran to him.
My father held her tightly.
“Grandpa missed you.””
“I missed you too.””
His eyes closed.
For a few seconds, he just held her.
Then he looked at me.
And I saw the pain in his face.
Not disappointment.
Pain.
“Why didn’t you tell me something felt wrong?””
I looked away.
“Because nothing felt wrong.””
“That’s the problem.””
I sat down on the edge of the bed.
“I believed her.””
My father placed the folder on the table.
“I know.””
Inside were documents.
Old property records.
Papers I hadn’t seen in years.
“What is this?””
He sat across from me.
“The truth about that farm.””
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?””
“Regina didn’t own Braddock Hall.””
My eyebrows pulled together.
“What?””
“She never owned it.””
I looked at the papers.
“Dad…”
“The property belonged to your mother and me. After your mother passed, we kept everything in a family trust.””
I flipped through the pages.
The words blurred.
“Why?””
“Because we knew you girls were different.””
A sad smile crossed his face.
“You were always the one who gave things away. Regina was always the one who wanted things.””
I remembered being sixteen years old.
Regina taking my clothes.
My books.
Even my graduation money.
Back then, I thought that was just what older sisters did.
I didn’t understand.
Some people don’t take because they need something.
They take because they believe they deserve everything.
“So why is she there?”” I asked.
My father leaned back.
“Because after your mother died, Regina convinced me she would maintain the property.””
“She convinced you?””
He looked down.
“She was persuasive.””
That was the first time I saw regret in my father’s eyes.
“After I had my stroke, she handled the paperwork. She paid bills. She managed the farm.””
“And she turned it into a wedding venue.””
“Yes.””
I looked at the documents again.
“She’s been making money from property that isn’t hers?””
My father nodded.
“That’s why I called Daniel.””
“Your lawyer?””
“Yes.””
I felt something shift.
For a year, I had felt powerless.
Thousands of miles away.
Unable to protect my daughter.
But now…
The pieces were moving.
“What can we do?””
My father looked at me.
“We find out exactly what Regina has done.””
The next morning, I returned to the farm.
Not because I wanted to.
Because I needed answers.
My father’s lawyer had instructed us not to confront Regina until we understood the situation.
But there was something I needed.
Proof.
The moment my truck entered the property, Regina came outside.
She was wearing a cream-colored sweater and holding a coffee cup.
Like yesterday had never happened.
Like she hadn’t looked my daughter in the eyes and called her a burden.
“There you are.””
I parked.
“Where’s Josie?””
Regina’s smile disappeared.
“So now you’re hiding my niece from me?””
I stared at her.
“Your niece?””
“Yes.””
“She’s my daughter.””
“And I cared for her when you weren’t around.””
I almost laughed.
Almost.
Instead, I stepped closer.
“You didn’t care for her.””
Her eyes narrowed.
“You have no idea what I sacrificed.””
“You mean the money?””
Her face changed.
Just slightly.
Enough.
“You sent money,” she said.
“I sent it for Josie.””
“I used it for the household.””
“The household?””
She waved her hand toward the property.
“This place.””
I looked around.
“The place you don’t own?””
The color drained from her face.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“What did Dad tell you?””
“So you knew?””
“Knew what?””
“That this wasn’t yours.””
Regina’s expression hardened.
“Careful, Quinn.””
“No.””
My voice stayed calm.
“Careful is what I was for the last year.””
I stepped closer.
“I was careful when I left my daughter with you.””
“I was careful when I sent money every month.””
“I was careful when I believed your lies during every phone call.””
Her jaw tightened.
“You’re being dramatic.””
“No.””
I looked toward the old farmhouse.
“I’m finally paying attention.””
For the first time, Regina looked nervous.
Then her phone rang.
She glanced at the screen.
And everything changed.
The confidence disappeared.
The anger disappeared.
She looked afraid.
She answered quietly.
“Hello?””
She listened.
Then her eyes moved toward me.
“What do you mean the records were requested?””
My heart started beating faster.
She turned away.
“No, nobody was supposed to—”
She stopped.
Her face went pale.
Then she whispered the words that confirmed everything.
“Who told Quinn?””
I didn’t move.
I didn’t speak.
Because in that moment, I knew.
My sister wasn’t afraid that I had found out about Josie.
She was afraid I had found out about everything.
And when Regina ended the call, she looked at me differently.
Not like a little sister.
Not like family.
Like an enemy.
“You have no idea what you just started,” she said.
I looked her straight in the eyes.
May you like
“Neither do you.””
*End of Chapter 2*
