Their Favorite Child Destroyed Them

I was in the middle of presenting the quarterly report in the conference room when my phone started buzzing nonstop on the table.

I signaled for my assistant to take it outside, forced myself to finish the presentation, then hurried out to check it.

Sure enough, it was my wife, Madison Conner.

Seven missed calls and a flood of messages packed with exclamation points filled the screen. My chest tightened with every one I read.

I found a quiet corner of the office and called her back.

To my surprise, she didn't start yelling. She just sounded worn out.

"What took you so long? I already handled everything. I swear, whenever I actually need you, you're nowhere to be found."

I ignored the dig and asked what had happened.

She sighed impatiently.

"What do you think? Simon. That kid gets worse every day.

"During gym class, he lifted a girl's skirt and tried to pull down her shorts. Her mom was at the school for something and happened to still be there. She saw the whole thing from the sidelines.

"You should've heard the way she went off on me when I got there. I've never been so humiliated in my life. I wanted to crawl into a hole.

"The next time Simon gets in trouble, you're handling it. I'm not putting myself through that again."

I hesitated, then repeated what I had told her before.

"I've already said Simon is your parents' responsibility. They're the ones raising him. You're only his sister. You can't discipline him, and he doesn't listen when you tell him no.

"You have no real authority over him. How are you supposed to keep him under control? We should be putting that time and energy into taking care of Zoe…"

"Peter!" Madison cut me off, her voice rising sharply. "I'm only going to say this one more time: he's my brother. My own flesh and blood. You're not part of this, so stay out of it!"

The word outsider wasn't there, but the message was clear. It hit me hard enough to bring me to my senses, and I knew better than to argue.

Apparently, my silence bored her. She dropped the subject and told me to come home early because she needed help with the mountain of chores waiting for me.

That was Madison. One minute, she made it clear I wasn't part of her family. The next, she expected me to clean up every mess they made.

I sighed, gathered my things, and headed down to the parking garage.

The drive home took over an hour. I sped the entire way, expecting to walk into a full-blown family crisis over Simon Conner. Instead, when I opened the front door, everything looked perfectly peaceful.

Simon sat on my mother-in-law Grace Conner's lap, playing a video game while she handed him pieces of fruit. My father-in-law, Andrew Conner, was out on the patio, listening to classical music on the radio.

From the bedroom near the kitchen came the faint sound of Madison scolding our daughter, Zoe Maxwell.

This was supposed to be my home. But really, it belonged to my in-laws. I was just the man who lived there.

Under that roof were Andrew, Grace, Simon, Madison, Zoe, and me.

Seen that way, Madison wasn't entirely wrong to call me an outsider. Everyone in that house except me was connected by blood.

I took off my jacket, set down my briefcase, and rolled up my sleeves before heading to the kitchen to start dinner. Then I noticed the dirty plates and cups covering the dining table.

"Oh. You already ate," I murmured.