A bitter smile twisted my lips as I walked downstairs without looking back.
Back in my cramped rental, I collapsed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Memories flooded in, unbidden.
Staying up until dawn comparing renovation materials. Running between markets, haggling to save a few cents. Watching my bank account drop to near zero every month after the mortgage deduction.
For years, I had lived like a pauper to fund their lives. A decent salary, yet I lived more bitterly than anyone.
I had thought my sacrifice would buy me a safety net—a home that would always keep a light on for me.
Nothing but a delusion.
My phone buzzed. Margaret had posted a new status.
So happy! Tomorrow, the whole family goes on vacation!
Below the caption was a photo: Margaret, Raymond, and Diana.
Just the three of them.
What a happy family.
I stared at the photo, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. I tapped "like" without hesitation.
Then I closed the app and dialed the contractor who'd handled the renovation two years ago.
"Liam Dickerson? It's Sarah Henson. Do you remember the Greenview Heights project?"