I walked out of the courtroom and back into the bright light of the lobby.

Near the water fountain, my parents were waiting.

My father, Harold, stood with his arms crossed, his face red beneath his gray hair.

My mother, Denise, was clutching her leather purse to her chest like a shield.

They saw me approach and stepped into my path, blocking the exit.

“Meredith,” my mother whispered, her eyes watery. “How could you do this?”

“Do what, Mom?” I asked, stopping a few feet away.

“You’re ruining your sister’s life,” my father barked, his voice drawing looks from a passing bailiff.

“Kelsey is trying to take my land,” I said. “Grandfather gave it to me.”

“It’s just dirt, Meredith,” Harold said, stepping closer. “Kelsey and Trevor need this development to go through.”

“That’s not my problem,” I said.

“It is your problem,” my mother cried, her voice cracking. “You are being so selfish. You don’t know what’s at stake here.”

I looked at her, noticing the deep lines of worry around her mouth.

She looked exhausted, older than her sixty-five years.