Five thousand dollars. Every single month. Deducted from my salary to cover their mortgage. I worked myself to the bone, no time to rest.
For two full years, I didn't even visit.
This New Year's Day was my first time back—to the apartment I'd paid to renovate, helped pay off. Those two years had been bitter and exhausting, but I never complained. As long as I was contributing to Raymond's happiness, to the family, it was worth it.
They were my blood. This was my sanctuary.
Now they were telling me docking at this sanctuary required an exorbitant fee.
My sacrifice. My sincerity. The family bond I took such pride in.
All of it—a sick joke.
Raymond seemed stunned, unable to meet my gaze.
I didn't let him look away. "Raymond, I paid for the renovation. Five thousand dollars a month for two years toward your mortgage. If I cared about money, would I have poured everything into this family?"
Shame flickered across his face.
Before he could respond, Diana cut in.
"Sarah, what exactly do you mean? Trying to settle old scores?"
She crossed her arms. "Yes, you put up money, but this apartment is under your brother's name. It's our marital home. You paid, we're grateful—but business is business."