Chapter 5

"So I'm the selfish one?" I asked, my voice dangerously quiet. I looked directly at my brother. "I'm the one who's been paying for Mom's house, her food, her insurance, and contributing my own money on top of that, and I'm selfish?"

"Yes!" Leo shot back, his face red with indignation. "Because you're hoarding the rest! You live better than us. It's not fair."

Chloe let out a short, sharp laugh. "Fair? He's right. It's Mom's money. It should be split down the middle. Half for you, half for us. That's fair."

The audacity of it stunned me. They weren't just asking for money for a car anymore. They were laying claim to half of my mother's entire retirement fund, a fund I knew for a fact was dangerously depleted.

My mother, seeing the argument escalating, stepped between us. She wrung her hands, a gesture of peak anxiety. "Okay, okay, let's all calm down. Maybe there's a compromise."

She turned to me. "Sarah, what if you just give Leo two thousand five hundred? Half of what he needs. That seems fair, right? A compromise."

I stared at her, my mind reeling. She was still trying to mediate, but her solution was completely detached from reality. There wasn't two thousand five hundred dollars to give. And even if there was, her "compromise" was based on their false premise that I was hoarding a fortune.

Leo considered it for a moment, stroking his chin. He was actually thinking it over, as if it were a legitimate business negotiation. "Fine," he said. "I'll take twenty-five hundred now. But I want the other twenty-five hundred by the end of the month. With interest."

But Chloe wasn't satisfied with this "compromise." She turned on my mother, her voice sharp. "Why should it only be twenty-five hundred? That's not fair to Leo! Sarah gets to live in her nice place with her nice things, and Leo can't even get a decent car to go to work? He's your son! You should be on his side!"

My mother flinched. The challenge to her fairness, the one thing she claimed to value, hit her hard. She looked cornered, her eyes darting between her son, her daughter-in-law, and me. For the first time, she seemed to have no easy answer, no placating words to smooth things over. She was silent, the gears in her head visibly turning and grinding to a halt. The carefully constructed image of the impartial matriarch was cracking under pressure.

Seeing the three of them tangled in their own twisted logic gave me a strange sense of clarity. I saw a way out. Not to fix things, but to expose them.

I let out a cold, humorless laugh. "You want to talk about fair? Okay, let's talk about fair."

I looked at Leo. "I'll tell you what. I'll write you a check for five thousand dollars right now. From my personal savings account."

They all stared at me, shocked into silence.

"But," I continued, letting the word hang in the air. "It's a loan. I will write up a legal document, and you will sign it, agreeing to pay me back in full within one year. With interest. Because that's what a real loan is. And Mom, you will co-sign it as a guarantor. Since it's 'family money,' the family should guarantee it."

The room went completely still. I had called their bluff, using their own twisted definition of fairness against them. They didn't want a loan. They wanted a handout. And they certainly didn't want any legal documents or personal accountability. They just wanted the money, free and clear, with me as the villain who had been forced to give it up. My offer wasn't generosity; it was a trap, and they knew it.