My savings account showed less than a dollar remaining, and my checking account barely had enough for a single meal.
The transaction history revealed multiple withdrawals from different ATMs across town, followed by a large wire transfer that made my vision blur.
“That was my money for graduate school,” I whispered, barely able to process what I was seeing.
Tyler stood up, towering over me with confidence, fully aware of the power he believed he had in that moment.
“Not anymore,” he said coldly.
“Give it back,” I demanded, though my voice lacked the strength I wished it had.
“No,” he replied simply.
My father stood as well, folding his arms as if preparing to justify everything that had just happened.
“You have been staying here for almost two years,” he said, speaking slowly like he was explaining something obvious, “Bills, food, utilities, and your mother and I decided this evens things out.”
“Evens things out?” I repeated, my voice breaking as disbelief turned into anger.
“You never asked me for rent,” I said, looking directly at him.
My mother gave a small shrug, as if that detail did not matter at all.
“We should not have had to,” she said calmly.