Tom downstairs was almost fifty years old, and I just turned thirty this year. He was in a car accident, his wife died, and his leg was lame.
My biological dad wanted me to marry someone who was about his age.
He was pushing me into the fire pit.
I asked harshly, "What do you mean?"
"I bought the house you're living in now. Don't I even deserve to have a room? And you even want me to marry an old man?"
Johnson got even angrier and pointed at me, saying, "You bastard, how can you talk to your parents like that? We gave birth to you and raised you, isn't it your duty to buy us a house? Why didn't you marry someone but being rude in my house?"
Mary quickly pulled him back and pretended to wipe away her tears.
"Eva, why did you chase us away as soon as you came back and cause trouble?"
I almost laughed out of anger when I saw the two of them.
They were putting on a play in front of me.
As soon as I spoke, they refuted me, with the excuse that they were my parents, and it was obvious that they were determined to drive me away.
I didn't bother to argue with them but just pushed open the door of Stella's room.
"Stella, Mom and Dad want me to move out, please say something."