Ch. 27 | The House Always Wins

Sam and her parents pulled up to the house. Lost in thought over her conversation with the pastor, she was still processing what she thought about him. He seemed genuine—a bit naive, maybe—but in spite of his popularity among parishioners, he appeared to care. So she couldn’t fault him for that. Whether they’d talk again? Only time would tell.

“So I hear you’ll be doing a marketing pitch for my hospital,” Joseph said, looking at his daughter in the rearview mirror.

Sam flinched. She immediately felt herself go on guard. Sharing anything with her dad usually had negative connotations.

“Uh, yeah. The neighbor told me about it and put me in touch with Dr. Moody,” she added, careful not to drag Jesse into it. The last thing she wanted was for her father to ruin her friendship.

“Is that right,” he said softly, with a slight menacing tone. “Well, if you’d like some help, I’d be willing to give you a pointer or two. Couldn’t hurt to get a little leg up from the old man.”

He chuckled, making Sam want to hurl. She grunted instead of giving him a proper reply. Help from him always came with strings attached.

They exited the car, Sam going straight to the casita.

“We can talk more about it at dinner,” her father called breezily after her.

Sam was not in the mood. Since she came back, she’d made a concerted effort to not get involved in anything connected to her father. It never ended well, and this would be no different.

Sandra sighed, weary over the morning’s events. She was sad Sam still kept her at arm’s length, but she could tell her daughter was doing well—and for that, she was grateful. The matriarch was genuinely excited about Sam’s pitch to the hospital, but found herself uneasy about her husband’s potential involvement.

For Joseph, everything was about him. And he had a knack for sabotaging Sam.

Sam and Joseph were like oil and water. Honestly, Russia and Ukraine had better relations than the two of them. But if Sandra was being honest, the blame sat squarely on their shoulders. Which is exactly why Joseph’s sudden offer to help their daughter felt… off.

Then it hit her.

He only did this with Sam. The sabotage, the power games, the “offers to help” that turned into mind traps. He never did that with Char or Henry. But then again, they were willful participants in their father’s antics. Sam was the only child who was her own person.

It wasn’t lost on Sandra that Joseph resented that. He had nothing to do with Sam’s success—and he knew it. And while his behavior could be traced back to his own absent father, it didn’t excuse the fact that he refused to give his children space to become their own people.

Sam disrupted his illusion.

She was the only one with the stones to reject the role. And she paid for it. That was made clear the moment Joseph heard Sam would be moving back.

At first, he didn’t want her here.

Sandra remembered the look on his face when she told him Sam needed their help. He looked... smug. Like he enjoyed her misfortune. Like seeing her down a peg brought him joy. She shook her head, trying to push the thought away.

Her husband wasn’t a monster.

Was he?

She shook her head again, trying to reroute her thoughts. I should get a start on dinner, she thought.

She decided to focus on what mattered: Sam joining them. For the last two weeks, she’d been boxing up leftovers and putting them in the casita fridge—with Sam’s blessing, of course. She knew this distance was her own fault. So whatever progress she made, she respected the boundaries that came with it.

And if she had to run interference between Joseph and Sam?

She would. Gladly