My sister threw me out of the house after our father died

I could barely breathe. It felt like the ground had been torn away from under my feet and I fell weightlessly into nothingness. “Charlotte,” I whispered in a trembling voice. “I have nowhere else to go.”

Her smile grew wider. “And that’s not my problem. Find a solution, little sister.”

I felt tears rising in my eyes, but I refused to let them flow. Not in front of her. “You’re serious?” I asked in an barely audible voice.

She shrugged indifferently. “You should have been nicer to me than we were kids. Maybe I would have felt bad.”

I was trembling for my phone and called the lawyer. “Dawn!” he said, visibly surprised. “What can I do for you?”

“Charlotte threw me out of the house!” I shouted. “What am I supposed to do?”

There was a brief moment of silence, then his laughter sounded. Sincere, not mocking.

“I can’t believe it,” he chuckled. “It happens exactly as your father predicted. Come to my office tomorrow. I have something for you.”

I didn’t know what he meant, but I felt a glimmer of hope.