Chapter 2Selling The Illusion Of Home

That evening, the town’s annual Autumn Festival was in full swing, and most of the guests were out at the cider tastings.

The five of us finally sat down at the large farmhouse table in the private kitchen. There was roast chicken, garlic string beans, and a massive bowl of mashed potatoes. I hadn’t eaten since early morning. But just as I picked up my fork, my sister Haley reached out and covered the serving spoon with her hand.

"Nora, let’s settle the meal tab first."

I looked up at her. Haley was five years younger than me. I had spent my entire life shielding her, spoiling her, bailing her out. But the woman sitting across from me was a stranger.

She avoided my eyes, focusing intently on the salt shaker. "Things are different now that the house is a business. Groceries, utilities, meat—it’s all overhead. And holiday prices at the supermarket are insane."

Ryan instantly jumped in. "Nora, don't get defensive. Room rates are room rates, meals are meals. We usually charge guests forty-five dollars for a farm-to-table dinner add-on. You're my sister-in-law, so I’ll do thirty."

He gestured vaguely toward the ceiling. "And then there’s the hot water from your shower this afternoon. The mini-split AC in your room. The linens. If you need to use the washer and dryer, that’s a separate fee, too. We have to itemize everything now, otherwise our accountant breathes down my neck at the end of the month."

I slowly lowered my fork.

"So, I have to pay to eat a meal inside the house that I bought?"

A heavy silence draped over the kitchen.

Haley’s face flushed red. "Can you stop throwing the house in our faces every time you open your mouth?"

Ryan scoffed. "Exactly. Look, you helped us out a few years ago, sure. But you can't expect a lifetime pass to freeload just because you wrote a check back in the day."

I turned to my parents.

My mother’s eyes immediately welled with tears. "Nora, please. Haley is pregnant. She’s running this massive property, her hormones are all over the place, and they have so much financial stress. You’re the older sister. Can't you just let her have this?"

My father dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter. "What is the big deal about throwing in a few bucks for dinner? You make a salary in the city. Your sister and Ryan are the ones here, taking care of your mother and me day in and day out. You come home once a year and you expect them to cater to you for free?"

I stared at him, letting the words sink into my skin.

"I bought this house to give you and Mom a comfortable retirement. I handed the business over to Haley and Ryan so they wouldn't go bankrupt. And now, I come back for a weekend, and you're charging me for the water I bathe in and the food I eat."

I took a breath. "Dad, do any of you even consider me family anymore?"

His face darkened, the veins in his neck pulling tight. "Why do you always have to make things so ugly?"

Haley frowned, rubbing her stomach. "Nora, Ryan isn't trying to insult you. You just don't get it. We are the ones dealing with the bad Yelp reviews, the clogged toilets, the Airbnb algorithms. You live in a high-rise. You drop in for two days and have no idea how exhausting this is."

My mind flashed back to the inn's opening year. When their Airbnb listing was buried on page ten, I was the one pulling all-nighters, rewriting their SEO and editing their photos. When the boiler failed in the dead of winter, I was the one calling emergency plumbers at 2:00 AM and paying the exorbitant weekend dispatch fees. When they operated at a loss for twenty-four months, it was my bank account that kept the lights on.

And where was Haley during that time? Racked up in credit card debt from online gambling, crying on my shoulder, begging me to pay it off before Ryan found out.

Suddenly, I felt entirely hollow. It was pointless. No matter how much of myself I bled out for them, they would step over it without a second glance.

Ryan slid the digital reader across the table toward me. "Dinner is thirty. Utilities and housekeeping are another hundred. Laundry fee is an upfront fifty. Comes to one-eighty."

I tapped my phone against the glass. Approved.

Ryan grinned, sliding the device back into his pocket. "See? This is great. We keep the books clean, and we can just enjoy being family."

The food on my plate had gone cold. I took one bite of the chicken, but it tasted like ash in my mouth.

During dinner, Ryan took two phone calls. He spoke in a buttery, apologetic customer-service voice. "I am so sorry, but we are entirely booked for the weekend. The Magnolia Room? Ah, yes, unfortunately, a relative had an emergency and had to take it at the last minute. I know, it's a shame."

He hung up and sighed heavily. My mother immediately shot me a venomous glare.

I stood up, leaving my plate full. I had lost my appetite entirely.

That night, I sat alone on the second-floor balcony. Down in the courtyard, string lights glowed warmly over the fire pit. Ryan was holding court with a group of tourists drinking wine.

"Yeah, my wife and I built this place from the ground up," his voice drifted up, laced with practiced humility. "Poured our blood, sweat, and tears into it. Now you gotta book six months out just to get a weekend in October."

My parents sat in rocking chairs nearby, nodding and smiling. Everyone had conveniently forgotten I existed.

I pulled out my phone and opened a message from Sarah Jenkins, my realtor.

Sarah: "Hi Nora, I know you said no last time, but I have a corporate buyer asking about The Creekbrook Inn again. Are you still a hard no on selling?"

A few months ago, I had replied: "Not selling. My family lives there."

Now, my fingers moved quickly over the keyboard. "List it. Tell them we want to negotiate up from their last offer."

Sarah replied almost instantly. "Nora! Are you serious? I actually have the buyers in town this week checking out properties. Can you meet tomorrow?"

I looked down at my family, laughing around the fire pit.

"I can."