My father’s jaw tightened. “You’re a grown man, Sam. You should be able to stand on your own two feet.”

“And Jessica can’t?” My voice was rising, but I couldn’t help it.

“She’s in a different position,” my mother insisted.

I laughed bitterly. “Right. Because I worked hard, put myself through college, built a life for myself, and never once asked for your financial help. Meanwhile, Jessica,” I turned to my sister, feeling the resentment I had buried for years finally pushing to the surface, “burned through her first marriage, cheated on her husband, spends money like it grows on trees, and somehow she’s the one who deserves to be taken care of?”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “You always act like you’re the victim.”