Chapter 3

I looked from my mother' s pleading face to my brother' s smug one, and a flood of memories washed over me. It wasn't always like this. Or maybe it was, and I just hadn't wanted to see it.

I remembered being a kid. Leo and I would get the same allowance, but his would be gone in a week on candy and comic books, while I saved mine for something bigger.

When I finally had enough to buy the bicycle I wanted, my mother praised my patience. "See, Leo?" she would say. "That's what happens when you're responsible. You should be more like your sister."

She seemed so fair back then. She always spoke about the importance of hard work and living within your means. She was the one who taught me how to budget, how to open a savings account, how to be meticulous with my finances.

When she first proposed the "family payment" plan, she used that history to convince me. We were sitting at her kitchen table, the same table where she' d helped me with my math homework.

"I trust you, Sarah," she had said, her voice full of warmth. "I don't trust myself not to be too soft on your brother. And I certainly don't trust him not to ask. If you hold the money, you can be objective. You can make sure it' s used for real needs, not just wants. It protects me, and it protects the money for everyone's future."

I was hesitant at first. It felt like a burden, being the gatekeeper of my family's financial well-being. "Mom, I don't know," I'd said. "What if you and I disagree on what a 'real need' is? What if it causes fights?"

"It won't," she had assured me, patting my hand. "Because you'll have the statements. It's all about the numbers. The numbers don't lie. It' s the fairest way."

Her logic seemed sound, and her flattery about my responsible nature worked. I wanted to believe in that vision of a fair, logical family structure. I wanted to be the good daughter who helped her widowed mother feel secure. So, against my better judgment, I agreed. I fell for the illusion of her impartiality.

Now, standing in my living room, the illusion was shattering. The "fairness" was a lie. The "objectivity" was a weapon to be used against me.

I brought myself back to the present. My mother was still looking at me, waiting for me to give in, to provide the money for Leo's car.

"No," I said, my voice quiet but firm. "I will not 'just give him' five thousand dollars, because it isn't there."

"This is unbelievable," Chloe scoffed from the side.

I looked past them, towards the door. "I think you all need to leave now," I said. I was done with this ambush. The conversation was over. If we were going to talk about this, it would be on my terms, with every single bank statement and receipt spread out on a table between us. Not like this, not an interrogation in my own home.