Dear Harper,
You think this is about grandma’s pregnancy. It’s not. It’s about Harper and Dylan believing they’re entitled to my home because they think I’m a fool. The irony is that they don’t know I’ve been watching.
I’ve been quiet, but I’ve been present. I’ve seen how they look at this house, and I’ve recorded every moment of their planning. You also know about the lawn, the furniture, the silent judgment. But you only know the side of Harper and Dylan that performs for you and Talia.
Here’s what you don’t know. I have evidence. Video, Harper’s own words. I have proof of their plan.
And I have Talia’s instructions to document everything. So no, I won’t be coming to your family gathering. I don’t want to discuss reconciling with people who are simultaneously trying to push me out of this home and then playing the victim when I set boundaries. If you respect me at all, you’ll stop asking me to make nice so Harper can feel better about herself.
This Sunday, as always, I’ll be here. In the only house I’ve ever owned, the only place that’s ever felt like mine. If you’d like to see me, you know where I am. I’ll set the kettle on.
—Claudia.