Chapter 8 - The Echoes of Karma
Over the next year, news of my former family trickled in through the small-town grapevine, mostly through Sarah, who occasionally heard gossip at the salon. I didn't seek the information out, but I didn't ignore it either. It served as a reminder of the bullet I had dodged.
Karma is not always a dramatic lightning bolt; sometimes, it is the slow, inevitable collapse of a house built on rot.
Without me there to serve as the family scapegoat—the lightning rod for all their dysfunction—they turned on each other. My father’s impatience, which used to be directed at my "failures," was now focused entirely on Clare's constant demands.
Clare, having been coddled and told she could do no wrong her entire life, struggled immensely when reality didn't bow to her whims. She lost her job after a massive, entitled outburst at her manager. Because she had alienated so many people in the community following the Facebook incident, no one was willing to recommend her for a new position.
Worst of all was what was happening to Olivia. By indulging her worst impulses and teaching her that she was entitled to other people's joy, Clare was raising a tyrant. Olivia was having severe behavioral issues at school, alienating her peers, and throwing violent tantrums at home when she didn't get her way. My parents, who had once found her "princess" behavior charming, were now exhausted and overwhelmed by a deeply unhappy, uncontrollable child.
They were miserable, trapped in a prison of their own making.
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Hearing this didn't bring me joy, but it brought me peace. It validated everything I had done. I used to think I was the broken piece in the family puzzle, the reason things never fit right. Now I knew I was the only healthy piece, and I had simply removed myself from a diseased board.
I felt a brief pang of sorrow for Olivia—she was just a child, molded by awful adults—but I knew I could not save her without drowning Norah in the process. My duty was to my daughter.
