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The phone started ringing.
I told them the same thing I told Michael: “It’s not my responsibility anymore.”
At first, he was furious. “You’re just going to let it all fall apart?” he yelled.
Then something even more unexpected happened—Michael stepped up.
He learned how much it actually cost to keep the house running. He got a crash course in dealing with insurers and tax agencies. He even had to dip into the savings he inherited to cover repairs he didn’t know were needed.
“I didn’t know you were doing all that,” he admitted quietly.
There was a long pause. Then: “Thank you.”
These days, we talk more. Michael keeps me updated on the house, sometimes even asks for advice. The dynamic has shifted—and while we’ll never be the kind of siblings who finish each other’s sentences, there’s mutual respect now.
My parents left him everything. But in stepping back, I finally got something too: closure. And, maybe for the first time, a real sense of balance.