The meeting with the lender is set for tomorrow afternoon.
I’ve been turning it over in my mind, trying to prepare for whatever might come.
But each scenario seems more daunting than the last.
My mind drifts back to the last time I saw my sister.
She looked tired, worn out by something she couldn’t or wouldn’t share with me.
Her husband, too, seemed distant, his eyes flickering with a restlessness I had never seen before.
The thought of them troubles me, a constant reminder of the unknowns I’m about to face.
I try calling my parents again, hoping they might finally give me some answers.
But their responses are clipped, their words carefully measured.
“Please, just let it be,” my father says, his voice low and strained.
