That evening, Anna noticed the lock.
“What is this?” she demanded, her voice sharp.
“A lock,” I said calmly, though my heart was pounding.
“Why?”
I told her the truth: that I knew she and the girls had been going into Kate’s room, taking her things, and that it had to stop.
Her face turned red. “Are you spying on us? Installing locks like this—this is insane! You’re creating division in the house. You’re treating my daughters like thieves. We are a family. Families don’t keep secrets, and sisters share everything!”
I stood my ground. “Sharing is one thing. Looting someone’s private belongings is another. Kate’s things are hers. Period. If Mia or Sophie want the same perfume or clothes, then buy them. But don’t take from my daughter.”
Anna’s voice grew cold. “You’re playing favorites. You’re choosing her over us. You’re locking doors in a family home. That’s a red flag.”
I clenched my fists but kept my voice steady. “No, Anna. The red flag is teenagers—and a grown woman—thinking it’s acceptable to raid someone else’s room like vultures. Kate deserves privacy. She deserves respect. And I won’t let her be walked over in her own home.”
