So, Sherry,” Zariah’s voice rang out during the main course, silencing the table. “Marcus tells me you’re still working at that… little cleaning company.” The way she said “little” made it sound like something you’d scrape off your shoe. Several guests turned to look at me, their expressions a bland cocktail of pity and curiosity….
Dinner was worse. I was seated at the far end of an endlessly long dining table, squeezed between an empty chair and a man who loudly detailed his latest business acquisition. Marcus caught my eye once and offered a weak, apologetic smile, but Zariah whispered something in his ear, and he immediately looked away. My…
Grandma Sherry!” Tommy’s voice cut through the adult chatter like sunshine. He ran toward me, his little arms outstretched, and for a moment, the world felt right again. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” I whispered, hugging him close. But before I could give him his gift, Zariah’s hand was on his shoulder, her grip firm. “Tommy, remember…
Other guests? Marcus had invited me for a “small family dinner.” When I stepped inside, I saw what she meant. The living room was filled with well-dressed couples dripping with jewelry that caught the light from the crystal chandelier. I recognized a few faces from the society pages—the wife of a local real estate mogul,…
I should have known something was wrong the moment I rang the doorbell. Usually, my son Marcus would greet me with that warm, familiar smile. Instead, it was Zariah who opened the door, her perfectly manicured fingers gripping the handle like a queen surveying her domain. “Oh,” she said, her voice carrying a specific chill…
There it was. Right on schedule. I let them stew for twenty minutes, letting the reality of their situation sink in. The calls started. Dad, then Mom. I sent them both to voicemail. Finally, I decided to engage, but not to argue. I sent a single, simple reply to their frantic group chat.Me: Not my…
I stared at the message, a slow, dark satisfaction settling in my chest. I typed out my reply with deliberate care.Me: Oh. I thought I wasn’t supposed to come back. And then, my phone exploded. It vibrated violently against the coffee table, a wild animal thrashing in a cage. Messages poured in from my parents,…
her voice thinning.“And what, exactly, is Zach?” I asked. “A houseplant?” “I hate you, dude,” Zach muttered from the couch. “If you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back,” my mother declared, her anger a palpable force in the room. I looked at her, at all of them, and for the first time, I…
My gaze snapped to him. “I don’t see youpaying for anything.” “Don’t talk to your brother like that!” my mother shot back. “He’s trying his best!” A humorless laugh escaped me. “Really? Because from where I’m standing, the only thing he’s trying to do is set a world record for consecutive hours of doing absolutely…
We need to talk, Evan,” my mother began. My father stepped forward. “We’ve been talking, and we think it’s time you contribute more,” he said, his voice heavy with false reason. “You make good money. It’s not fair that we’re struggling while you’re out living on your own.” I just stared at them. “I already…