I sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly out the window as the soft hum of the city filled the room. My husband, Ethan, was in the other room, packing our suitcases for our upcoming vacation, but my mind was elsewhere, thinking about how different our lives were compared to his brother, Stan.<\/p>\n
Ethan and I had built everything from scratch. We weren\u2019t rich, but we had a modest, cozy home filled with love and memories\u2014a sanctuary we cherished. Ethan came from a wealthy family, but he had always been determined to make his own way, turning down his father, Howard, when he offered him a cushy position in the family business.<\/p>\n
Stan, on the other hand, lived off their father\u2019s wealth. He never really worked, except for occasionally showing up at their father\u2019s company, where he enjoyed the perks of being the boss\u2019s son. Fancy cars, designer clothes, wild parties\u2014Stan loved the high life and took everything for granted.<\/p>\n
I sighed and shook off those thoughts as Ethan poked his head into the room. \u201cYou ready?\u201d he asked, zipping up the last suitcase.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlmost,\u201d I replied with a smile. \u201cIt\u2019ll be nice to get away for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n
We were headed out for a week-long vacation\u2014the first real break we\u2019d had in years. And though I had my reservations about leaving our house in Stan\u2019s care, Ethan had assured me it would be fine. \u201cIt\u2019s just a week. What could go wrong?\u201d he\u2019d said.<\/p>\n
But when we pulled into our driveway seven days later, my stomach sank.<\/p>\n
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<\/p>\n
The front door was slightly open, and the porch was littered with cans, bottles, and trash. My heart raced as I gripped Ethan\u2019s arm. \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ethan\u2019s face darkened. Without a word, he pushed the door open, and we stepped inside. The stench hit us first\u2014a sour mix of beer, smoke, and something burnt. The living room was in shambles: furniture overturned, broken glass everywhere, and stains on the walls from food that had been thrown or smeared.<\/p>\n
We wandered into the kitchen, and that\u2019s when we saw the source of the burnt smell\u2014a charred stove and melted cabinets. Something had exploded.<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan, this is insane!\u201d I gasped, my voice shaking.<\/p>\n
Ethan ran a hand through his hair, pacing. \u201cStan was supposed to watch the house, not throw a frat party!\u201d he fumed.<\/p>\n
I pulled out my phone, dialing Stan\u2019s number. It went straight to voicemail. Again and again, I called, but there was no answer. Ethan, now furious, started shouting, \u201cStan! Pick up your damn phone!\u201d<\/p>\n
Frustration and panic coursed through me as I dialed Ethan\u2019s mother, Celeste. She picked up on the second ring. \u201cAubrey, darling! How was your trip?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCeleste,\u201d I interrupted, \u201cdo you know where Stan is? Our house is destroyed!\u201d<\/p>\n
There was a pause on the other end, followed by an almost unnervingly calm response. \u201cOh, you don\u2019t know?\u201d Celeste said. \u201cFirst, congrats on the new house. And second, Stan won\u2019t be available for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUnavailable?\u201d I repeated, confused. \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"