“Yes.”

“And then filed a fraud complaint.”

Her face crumpled.

“I wanted something about it not to be true.”

The honesty was hideous.

And somehow sad.

Judge Morland allowed the silence to remain.

Then my mother reached toward Brenda.

My sister pulled away.

“Don’t.”

My mother froze.

Brenda looked at her.

“You did this.”

My mother stared back.

“You spent my whole life telling me I was special because she wasn’t.”

My chest tightened.

“Brenda—”

“No.”

She faced me.

“Every time you did something good, they explained why it didn’t count.”

My father stiffened.

“That is not true.”

Brenda laughed.

“You called community college proof she lacked ambition.”

“You agreed.”

“I was sixteen!”

“You were older than she was.”

“And you were our father.”

That landed.

My father leaned back.

Brenda turned to our mother.

“When she got the scholarship, you said Suffolk wasn’t Yale.”

My mother whispered, “We were trying to keep expectations realistic.”

“For her.”

Brenda’s voice cracked.

“You never kept mine realistic. You made me responsible for being extraordinary.”

My mother stared at her.

“And when I stopped being extraordinary, I had no idea who I was.”

Nobody spoke.

For the first time, I saw our family machinery from both sides.

I had been starved of approval.

Brenda had been force-fed it until she believed losing it meant losing herself.

Neither was love.

Judge Morland removed her glasses.

“This committee will dismiss the complaint against Ms. Claire Hamilton with prejudice.”

I closed my eyes.

One breath.