Then I wrote a long post underneath. I laid out every detail. What my life had actually looked like all these years. What Mom's version of "fair" really meant. How Dad's backward obsession with the family name had led him to break every promise he'd ever made.
Within minutes, the post blew up. Relatives, classmates, people I hadn't spoken to in years—all crawling out of the woodwork.
Mom's phone started buzzing. Dad's phone started buzzing. Zachery's phone started buzzing.
Zachery stared at me like I'd lost my mind.
"Cassie, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to destroy this family?"
I rolled my eyes. My life was already this much of a disaster.
If I didn't raise hell now, what was I supposed to do? Graduate and drown in student loans?
No money meant no education. Simple as that.
I'd been researching how to take legal action against my father.
After digging into it, I figured out the path of least resistance: call the cops.
When the officers showed up at the house, I threw myself at their legs and sobbed.
"I can't survive anymore! My mom can't afford to raise me, and my dad refuses to! I'll kill myself right in front of them if I have to!"