But Dad was not joking.
“You’re selling it,” he said. “Emily needs tuition money.”
That was when Emily leaned back and really started listening.
I looked from him to her.
“I paid for it with my savings.”
Mom’s answer came quickly.
“So? Family comes before selfish little dreams.”
That line hurt for a reason they probably did not understand.
It was not the first time I had been told that wanting something for myself meant I was failing the family.
When Dad had been between jobs, I helped cover utility bills.
I paid Emily’s car insurance.
I bought her laptop.
I covered what were described as spring-break emergencies.
I had already helped with two semesters of what everyone kept promising was temporary tuition support.
Whenever I asked whether any of that money would eventually come back to me, Mom treated the question itself like an insult.
She called me cold.
