My Parents Gave My Room To My Stepsister. But She Smashed A Wall And…

The Insurance Investigation

I thought that was the end until yesterday, when an insurance investigator called to say they found something odd in Victoria’s search history the week before her paralysis. I’m headed to the police station. The ventilator made its usual whooshing sound every few seconds, and I’d been counting the cycles without thinking about it.

I grabbed my phone and saw a number I didn’t recognize. The man on the other end introduced himself as Ethan Parker from the insurance company, sounding polite and scripted. He said they were reopening the case and needed me to come to the police station this afternoon to answer some questions.

My hands started shaking so badly, I almost dropped the phone.

I said, “Okay,” and wrote down the address, even though I already knew where it was.

After hanging up, I stared at Victoria’s face. Her eyes were closed, and she looked peaceful, which felt wrong given what I just heard. I stood up too fast and felt dizzy.

I went into the kitchen, where Dad was drinking coffee and Rebecca was making toast, and told them about the call., Rebecca’s face went white for two seconds, then to angry. Her voice got louder as she demanded to know what lies I’d told the insurance company to make them suspicious.

Dad just stared at his coffee mug like it had answers written on the bottom. He said we should cooperate fully, give them whatever they need. His voice was flat and exhausted, like he’d used up all his energy just getting through the past few weeks.

Rebecca started arguing, but Dad held up his hand, and she stopped. I grabbed my jacket from the door hook and found my keys in my backpack, got in my car, and drove to the police station., While passing my old high school, I remembered how great I felt a few months earlier when I finished the garage makeover and had all my friends over.

The fairy lights shone off the new window and made everything lovely. Everyone kept saying it was the coolest room they’d ever seen, better than anything on Pinterest or Instagram. They took pictures and posted them with captions about how lucky I was.

That pride felt poisonous now, sitting heavy in my chest. Maybe I had shown off too much. Maybe I pushed Victoria over some invisible edge by having something she wanted so badly.

I parked in the police station lot and turned off the engine. I sat there for five minutes trying to calm down. My hands were still shaking.

I kept thinking about what search history they could have found to reopen the case. I finally got out of the car and went inside. I sat down and tried to remember the collapse day.

We left at noon for my cousin’s graduation ceremony., Victoria said she had a headache and wanted to stay home. I remembered her watching us pack the car from her bedroom window.

The neighbors’ frantic call came around 4 p.m. after hearing a huge cracking sound and seeing dust from our upstairs windows. The paramedics told us Victoria had been trapped for at least four hours, conscious and terrified, unable to move or call for help.

Thinking about those four hours, what she must have felt lying there, knowing something was horribly wrong with her body, turned my stomach. About 10 minutes later, Detective Olivia Cruz came out and walked straight toward me. She introduced herself as Detective Olivia Cruz and shook my hand firmly.

Her eyes were kind but serious. She led me down a hallway to a small interview room that smelled like old coffee and cleaning solution. I accidentally touched the metal, cold table.

She brought me a chair and sat across the table, explaining that this was an informative interview and that I may have a parent or attorney present. Detective Cruz pulled out a notebook and asked me to describe the family dynamics before the accident., I tried to explain how Rebecca always took Victoria’s side in every argument or disagreement.

I described how Dad attempted to preserve peace by giving in to Victoria, even when it wasn’t fair. I felt squeezed out of my own family when they were married. My voice trembled as I recounted my mom’s butterfly decals we made when I was tiny.

Victoria covered them with her expensive LED strips that synced to music. The detective took notes without looking at me, just nodding occasionally. She asked when things started getting worse between us.,

I explained about the garage trade and how Victoria got angrier after seeing how nice I made it. Then she asked about the garage renovation costs and timeline. I told the detective I’d saved eight months of paychecks from my part-time library job, bought the materials at Home Depot, and decorated mostly alone.

Dad helped with the window installation on weekends because it required actual construction work. The detective wrote something down and asked if we got window permits. My chest tightened because I didn’t know.

I told her Dad handled that part, or at least I thought he did. I worked on making everything seem lovely while he handled the formal stuff. She made another note and my anxiousness rose.

Search History and Secret Plans

Detective Cruz turned her iPad toward me. She showed me a preliminary report from Ethan Parker, the insurance investigator, and explained that routine device forensics revealed search history that raised red flags. Insurance companies check devices in major structural damage claims to rule out fraud.

I nodded, even though I didn’t understand why this mattered for Victoria’s accident., She looked silly attempting to bring down a wall. The investigator turned the tablet toward me and showed me Victoria’s laptop’s search phrases from six days before the fall.

My blood went cold. Each search term felt like a punch. She asked if I knew Victoria was planning any construction projects.

I shook my head and the room spun a little. I told Detective Cruz that Victoria never wanted to demolish walls, just buy decorations and complain that her room wasn’t big enough to compete with mine.,

He asked me to walk through the day of the accident again, specifically what time we left and who knew we’d be gone. I told her we left around noon for the graduation party. Victoria knew because she’d watched us pack the car from her bedroom window.

I remember her face in the glass looking pale and unhappy. I thought she was mad about missing the party, but now I wonder if she was nervous about what she was planning to do. Detective Cruz shifted in her chair and pulled up a new tablet screen.

She asked if I hired contractors or did all the garage renovation work myself., I told her I bought the materials and decorated, painting the walls and installing the shelves and fairy lights on my own. Dad helped with the window, which required cutting through the wall and framing it.

She nodded and wrote something down, then asked who did the electrical work for all the lights and the projector outlet. I told the investigator Dad ran new wiring from the house’s main electrical panel. The detective glanced up and asked whether we had building permits.,

I didn’t know, so my stomach fell. She made more notes on her tablet and said the insurance company would need to verify that all the work was done legally and up to code. I got sweaty palms because I wasn’t sure Dad had gotten permits.

Detective Cruz closed that screen and opened another, asking whether Victoria ever threatened to harm or destroy my garage. I shook my head and answered no, nothing like that. She regularly complained about how unfair the room arrangement was, how I had this vast space while she was confined in an ordinary bedroom.,

We didn’t fight, just average step-sibling tension and passive-aggressive remarks when her friends were over. The detective asked if Rebecca ever suggested Victoria should get the garage instead of me. I didn’t want to call Rebecca out, but he was waiting for an answer.