Two weeks earlier, I had opened my front door to find my younger sister standing on the porch with two suitcases, a handbag, and mascara smudged beneath her eyes.
She looked exhausted.
Her boyfriend of six years, Eric, had ended their relationship and told her to leave the apartment they had shared.
She had $287 in her checking account, no job, and nowhere she felt comfortable going.
When she saw me, her lower lip trembled.
“Amanda, I know this is embarrassing, but I don’t know what else to do.”
I didn’t ask what had happened.
I didn’t ask whether she’d tried our parents.
I didn’t ask why she hadn’t saved more money.
I simply took one suitcase from her hand and pulled her into a hug.
“Come inside.”
Andrew came downstairs when he heard our voices. He took the second suitcase and carried it to the guest room.
When I explained the situation, he didn’t hesitate.
