In the past, when she borrowed our family’s credit card, I didn’t mind the money—I only hated how carelessly she returned it. Now, hearing her sound so obedient, I realized she hadn’t expected me to refuse to go with her.
But after living again, I had no intention of being her fool.
I shook my head and said, “That’s not right, Chloe. You’re the one inviting the whole class to a seafood buffet, not me. Why should you use my credit card?”
“But Sophia, I don’t have a credit card. Mom never gave me one. Dad and Mom are biased. They only gave you one, not me.”
She spoke as if it were perfectly natural.
I laughed bitterly. You’re not even their real daughter—why would they give you a card? For now, since my parents didn’t know the truth, we had to share one.
Chloe pouted, “If you don’t give it to me, I’ll tell Mom you’re being stingy and won’t spend money on me. Boo-hoo.”
In the past, when she acted spoiled, I always gave in. After all, it wasn’t much money. But this time, I refused outright.
“Sorry, I never said I was going to the seafood buffet. Chloe, you’re the host, you pay. It’s not that much anyway, is it?”
I hung up immediately.
Chloe fumed, then started whining in the class group chat: