After that came indie music production, crypto trading, and custom athletic wear.
Nothing survived longer than ninety days.
Whenever they ran short on money, my parents bailed them out.
They covered preschool tuition.
Paid rent.
Bought groceries.
They had even funded the down payment on Chloe’s latest SUV.
I never criticized them.
It was their money.
But apparently, they considered mine fair game.
“Has Jessi actually agreed to this yet?” Flynn asked.
My mother gave another dismissive laugh.
“We haven’t mentioned it to her yet.”
Chloe giggled.
“Mom…”
“What? When we lay it out for her, she’ll understand.
She makes fantastic money.
She can easily find another place to lease.”
My father added, “We gave her everything growing up.
I don’t expect her to turn selfish now.”
Then Chloe said something that made the betrayal feel even colder.
“Well, I already posted online that we’re moving in January.”
Everyone laughed.
“You posted what?”
“A photo of her building’s exterior.
I captioned it: ‘Finally starting our new chapter.’ Everyone in my group is asking if we bought the place.”
“Well, let them think whatever they want,” my mother replied smoothly.
I stared down at the cake box.
For a moment, I imagined storming into the room and slamming it onto the table.
I imagined screaming.
I imagined demanding to know when my hard work had somehow become an obligation to surrender my home to Chloe.
Instead, I did nothing.
