grinning, our faces covered in cotton candy.
I remembered that day.
Back then, we were simply brother and sister.
Before competition.
Before money.
Before resentment and lies.
On the back, Khloe had written a short message.
Sometimes losing everything teaches you what was worth protecting.
She looked at me.
“I know I can’t undo what happened.”
“No,” I replied. “You can’t.”
“But I’m trying to make things right.”
I nodded.
“I can see that.”
We didn’t hug.
We didn’t pretend everything was normal.
Some betrayals leave scars that require time, accountability, and consistent effort before trust can return.
But for the first time, I believed she understood that.
Not long afterward, I accepted a new position as a project lead on a redevelopment program in Madison.
It was an opportunity I’d worked hard to earn.
On the morning I left, Mom hugged me tightly.
“Call when you arrive.”
“I will.”
