I Demolished My Brother's House After They Charged Me RentChapter 1 The Bill

I came home for New Year's. Two days. That's all.

My welcome gift was an itemized bill, slammed onto the coffee table by Diana Henson.

"You've started working now, Sarah." Her tone was clipped, matter-of-fact. "You can't expect to eat and live here for free. Lodging is two thousand a day. Meals are one thousand each. Two days makes ten thousand. Pay up."

I looked at my brother Raymond Henson, waiting for him to laugh at the joke.

He nodded. "Diana's thinking of the family. Even real siblings keep clear accounts. You stayed here. You pay."

I turned to my mother. "Mom?"

Margaret Henson sighed, wearing her long-suffering expression. "Sarah, your brother and Diana don't have it easy. You're not young anymore. Stop taking advantage."

Taking advantage？

I nodded in agreement and immediately handed them $10,000.

The next day, my brother and sister-in-law took the money I gave them and happily went on a trip with my mother.

But when they returned home, they were all dumbfounded.

——

I stared at the bill. For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating.

I paid for this home's renovations. Every inch. I transfer five thousand a month for the mortgage.

They wanted me to pay rent—in my own house?

Five thousand a day. More than a presidential suite at a five-star hotel.

Diana scoffed at my silence. "What's that look? Think we're asking too much?" She tapped a manicured nail against the table. "Water, electricity, gas, property fees, heating—not to mention your showers and phone charging. Five thousand is the family discount. You should pay and be grateful."

Grateful.

My mind flashed to two years ago. Bitter winter. Diana's ectopic pregnancy ruptured. Massive internal bleeding. She collapsed, unconscious.

Raymond was away on business. Mom panicked, useless, sobbing into the phone.

I dropped everything. Carried Diana to my car. Raced to the hospital.

I saved her life.

When they demanded a deposit for emergency surgery, I maxed out my credit card and borrowed from every colleague I knew.

For days afterward, I never left her bedside. Fed her. Washed her. Watched over her.

I remembered how she'd gripped my hand, pale and tearful. "Sarah, you gave me my life back. I'll remember this kindness forever. I'll treat you doubly well."

Doubly well.

I never imagined "double treatment" meant billing me to visit my own mother.