I watched Laurel’s fingers tighten around the phone.
“Kendra, we were trying to help,” she said.
“By lying to me?”
“Nobody lied.”
“You told me to give notice.”
“You said you wanted out of that apartment.”
“Because you said the lake house was certain.”
Laurel looked at Daniel for rescue.
He looked away.
Kendra’s voice became smaller.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
I felt sympathy for her.
She had made a reckless decision, but she had also relied on her sister’s certainty.
“You still have several weeks,” I said.
“Call your landlord tomorrow.
Ask whether the unit has been re-rented.
If it has, Daniel and Laurel can help you find another place.”
“With what money?” Laurel snapped.
“With theirs,” I said.
“They made the promise.”
Laurel ended the call without saying goodbye.
Then she called her parents.
That conversation was shorter.
Her father listened in silence.
Her mother began crying when she heard the sale was final.
Laurel repeatedly said I had “changed my mind.”
On the third repetition, I interrupted.
“I did not change my mind.
I was never asked.”
Her father said, “Laurel, is that true?”
She stared at the floor.
Daniel answered.
“Yes.”
The word landed harder than any accusation I could have made.
Her father inhaled slowly.
“Then we should not have accepted the offer until we spoke to Margaret ourselves.”
Laurel’s mother protested that they had already packed half the house.
“We can unpack,” he said.
“Or find somewhere else.
But we cannot move into a woman’s home without her permission.”
Laurel’s face went rigid.
“Dad, you don’t understand.”
“I understand enough.”
He ended the call.
For a moment, Laurel stood with the phone still pressed to her ear.
Then she turned on me.
“You’ve humiliated me in front of my entire family.”
“No.
Your promise did that.”
“You could stop the sale.”
“I will not.”
“You could let them stay until closing.”
“The inspection is Monday.
The buyers are entitled to receive the property in the condition they purchased.
I am not moving six people in for three weeks and asking them to leave on closing day.”
“This is unbelievably selfish.”