She scoffed. Waved her hand like I was speaking gibberish. She and Dad had *seen* the young couple's hardships with their own eyes. Why else would they have decided to sponsor them in the first place?
A bitter taste coated my tongue. I didn't have the energy to explain.
"Fine. Keep thinking that way." My voice went flat. "Seems like the truth doesn't matter to you anymore."
She took it as a tantrum. Just Gabriel saying hurtful things to get a rise out of her.
The living room hit me with a wall of tension the moment I stepped back in. Dad sat on the sofa, expression thunderous.
"What did that ungrateful wretch say?" he demanded. "He isn't willing to apologize, is he?"
Uncle Mason stepped between us, palms raised. "You two need to calm down. Houses aren't cheap. Can't the family discuss this rationally first?"
"I am his father!" Dad's roar rattled the windows. "Are you saying I can't even make this kind of decision?"
Mom walked in and repeated my words verbatim—adding extra emphasis to the young couple's *pitiful circumstances*.
Uncle Mason's brow furrowed. "I remember you first sponsored them eight or nine years ago. How long has it been since you actually visited their home?"