She had been planning to move out on her own.
She showed me a lease agreement—her name only.
“I needed something that was mine,” she said. “I didn’t want to depend on anyone anymore.”
That hit me harder than anything else.
Then my neighbor spoke up.
“The apartment is mine,” she said calmly. “It’s above my garage. I offered it to her.”
I was surprised—but also relieved.
My sister wasn’t going back to her old life.
She was building a new one.
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