“Mom, I’ve already given Emma twenty-four hundred dollars this year alone. That’s on top of my student loans, car payments, and trying to save for a down payment on a house. I’m not a bank.”
The front door opened behind me and Nathan walked in carrying a bouquet for my mother and a bottle of wine for dinner. His warm smile faded instantly as he took in the scene—me cornered by the door, my parents blocking my path, and a room full of relatives watching like we were some reality TV show.
“What’s going on?” he asked quietly, moving to stand beside me.
“Crystal is refusing to help her sister,” Martha announced to him as if he were a judge who had just entered the courtroom. “Maybe you can talk some sense into her about family obligations.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened. He’d heard enough stories about my family’s financial dynamics, but this was his first time witnessing it firsthand.
