“I gave Mom $1,500 every month to help her with her debt. My brother accused me of wanting Mom’s inheritance and called me the worst sister. Mom called me an ungrateful brat and told me to get lost! On moving day, I laughed because…”

“I do not want your money anymore,” she snapped. “And I do not want your superior attitude. Leave my house.”

I blinked, shocked. “Mom, what did I do wrong? Tell me, please.”

“You treat me like a burden,” she hissed. “You think a few payments earn you the right to judge us. You are an arrogant child.”

The accusation felt unreal. I thought of every overtime shift I picked up. I thought of canceled plans and skipped vacations. I thought of nights where exhaustion made me cry in the bathroom at work before I went back to customers with a smile.

She was not finished.

“And Trevor is the only one I can rely on,” she added. She lifted her chin proudly. “He never holds anything over my head. He has a heart. You do not.”

Trevor, who had not paid a cent. Trevor, who had never even thanked me.

I felt something in my chest twist painfully. It was not anger yet. It was devastation.

“Get your belongings from the guest room,” she said. “You are done here. I want you gone by Saturday.”