Chapter 4

He hung up.

I stood in the middle of the living room, gripping my phone, trembling from head to toe.

Liam stepped up behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. "What happened?"

"They..." I inhaled sharply, forcing my lungs to work. "They already bought train tickets. They're arriving tomorrow morning. They expect me to pick Dad up, pay for his surgery, and nurse him through recovery."

Liam’s brow furrowed, but he didn't interrupt.

I tossed the phone onto the couch, every ounce of fight draining out of me.

"Liam," I whispered, my voice rough, "I can't do this anymore. I'm completely done."

He didn't lecture me. He just pulled me into his arms.

Pressed against his chest, decades of memories flooded my mind.

I remembered being a kid. Whenever Mom bought treats, she would say, "Let Ethan pick first, he's younger."

When he grew up, she still said, "Let Ethan have it, he's the boy."

I remembered when I was eighteen, accepted into an out-of-state college. Mom told me, "Don't go. We can't afford it. We need to save so your brother can retake his exams."

I told her I’d work part-time and take out student loans to cover tuition myself. She didn't stop me, but she never gave me a single dime.

Four years of college. I worked three jobs at a time, never coming home for the holidays.

After graduation, every time I sent money home, Mom would say, "Your brother needs a car, send a little extra."

And I did.

Later, when he wanted to get married, she said, "We're short on his wedding costs, send more."

And I scraped together every dollar I could spare.

When it was my turn to get married, she demanded twenty-five thousand dollars upfront. Not a penny less.

I paid it.

I told myself it was my final payment to clear my debt of birth.

All these years, I never asked them for help. And what did it get me?

The moment Dad is sick, they come hunting for my wallet.

Mom screams that I have no heart, and Ethan texts me marching orders like I’m his hired help.

What were the last thirty years of my life to them?

"Nicole," Liam's voice pulled me back to reality. "What do you want to do?"

I looked up at him.

"I don't want to pick them up. I don't want to take care of him."

He nodded without hesitation. "Then don't."

"But they're already on their way."

"So what?" He held my gaze. "Them coming here is their choice. Whether you show up is yours. Nicole, you have the right to say no."

I stared at him, stunned, before a faint, bitter smile touched my lips.

Yes. I had the right to say no.

Yet in thirty years, I had never dared to say it.

My entire life, I had been trained to submit.

Yield to your brother. Work harder. Send more money home.

"Liam, let's go stay with your parents," I said suddenly.

He blinked. "Tonight?"

"Right now. When they arrive and find out I'm not at the station, they'll come straight to our door. I don't want to be here waiting for an ambush. Let's stay at your mom's for a few days until they give up and leave."