"Brother." My voice came out quiet. "Do you really think I should pay to stay in my own home?"
Raymond had loved me once.
Dad died early. Mom worked constantly. Raymond braided my hair with clumsy fingers. Saved his breakfast money for my cotton candy. Took punches from bullies meant for me. Put the last piece of meat in my bowl. Stayed up all night when I had fevers, stroking my hair. Don't be afraid, Sarah. Big brother is here.
That brother loved me most. He shouldn't be like Diana. He shouldn't treat me like a stranger to fleece.
But the man before me was a stranger. He frowned, annoyed. "Don't be so calculating. Diana manages this household. It isn't easy. Your visit increased our expenses."
My heart turned to ice.
I looked at their faces. Greedy. Self-righteous. Expectant.
"Okay."
I transferred ten thousand on the spot.
The tension vanished. Raymond and Diana beamed, pocketing the money without shame. They grabbed Mom, chattering about plans, and left the next day for a luxury trip—funded by my "lodging fee."
They left happy.
They had no idea what awaited them when they returned.
"Even siblings need to keep the books balanced. Besides, you make good money now. Why make a fuss over such a small amount?"
I stared at Raymond, my voice trembling. "You think this is about the money?"
I couldn't fathom those words had come from his mouth.
Years ago, the family drained their savings to buy this apartment as Raymond's marital home. Nothing remained for the interior—not a single dime for renovations.
I had only been working a short while then, but I'd saved a modest nest egg. Seeing Raymond so stressed he couldn't sleep, I couldn't bear it. I stepped up.
From blueprints to raw materials to soft furnishings—I managed every detail. Drained my savings. Exhausted myself. Made sure everything was perfect.
The day it was completed, Raymond stood in this very room, eyes glistening.
"Thank you, Sarah. You're the savior of this family. No matter what happens, my home will always be your home."
Later, both Raymond and Diana began complaining. The mortgage was crushing them. They couldn't breathe.
Family shouldn't draw lines between "yours" and "mine," I told myself. So I shouldered that weight too.
Five thousand dollars. Every single month. Deducted from my salary to cover their mortgage. I worked myself to the bone, no time to rest.
For two full years, I didn't even visit.