Chapter 3

Claire's POV

I took screenshots of every payment I'd made since Mom was admitted, attached them one by one, and clearly labeled what each charge was for.

Then, I typed, "Mom's hospital bills from the past week came to 127,360 dollars. I paid every cent of it.

"Both children have an equal responsibility to support their parents, so I've attached the full breakdown here. @Cathy Brenner, your half comes to 63,680 dollars. Please send it to me as soon as possible. You can deduct half of the 1,370 dollars you paid yesterday from that amount.

"I also spent the entire past week at the hospital, seven days straight. I ate there, slept there, and barely left the building. Cathy can take over this week. I don't expect her to do as much as I did. Just don't show up for ten minutes and leave as you did on the first day."

The chat went dead silent. My aunt, who only minutes ago had been one of the loudest voices calling me selfish and immature, suddenly had nothing to say.

My cousin stopped gushing about what an amazing daughter Cathy was. And every other relative who'd been so eager to judge me? Not one of them said another word.

Dad sent me a private voice message almost immediately. He sounded so furious I could practically picture him shouting at his phone.

"Claire Brenner! What the hell are you saying in the family chat? Cathy just started working! Where is she supposed to come up with 60,000 dollars? Are you trying to ruin her life?"

I laughed.

Ruin her life?

Funny. No one had worried about ruining mine when I'd first started working.

Back then, Cathy had decided she wanted to pursue dance professionally. Private coaching, competition fees, and audition prep cost a fortune. Mom and Dad couldn't afford it, so naturally, they came to me.

Cathy's grades had already been hanging by a thread, and dance seemed like her best shot at getting into a decent college. So, I swallowed my concerns and agreed to pay.

To scrape together enough money, I moved into a rundown apartment on the outskirts of the city, turning my commute into a two-hour ordeal. Most nights, dinner was whatever I could make cheaply, usually pasta and some frozen vegetables.

The building's heating barely worked in winter. I'd sit wrapped in blankets with my laptop balanced on my knees, revising proposals late into the night.

Once, I came down with such a bad fever that I could barely keep my eyes open. I still refused to go to urgent care. I couldn't justify spending the money.

Then, I went home for the holidays and saw Cathy's terrible scores from her dance program.

For once, I lost my temper.

I told her exactly what I'd been putting myself through to pay for all of it. I did it not because I wanted her gratitude. I just wanted my little sister to understand what it was costing me. I wanted her to take it seriously.

But Mom had immediately jumped to Cathy's defense. "Why are you yelling at her? It's not like she wanted to do badly."

Then, she'd turned on me instead. "So what if your apartment isn't very nice? You're not some spoiled princess. You don't need everything to be comfortable."

Cathy had been working for two years now. But back then, I'd been out of college for exactly three months.

Why hadn't anyone thought I deserved a little sympathy too?

Back in the family chat, my younger aunt was the first to break the silence. "Claire, your mother is still lying in a hospital bed. Do you really think now is the right time to start keeping score? Whatever issues you have, can't they wait until she's discharged?"

Then, my uncle's wife chimed in, "Exactly. You're family. If you insist on calculating every penny between you, what kind of family will you have left?"

And finally, the aunt who'd been attacking me earlier returned now that she'd found a new angle.

"Claire, you make good money. What's wrong with contributing a little more? Cathy's only been working for two years, and you're demanding more than 60,000 dollars from her all at once. Don't you think that's a little cruel?"

I read the messages one by one.

Strangely, I didn't even feel angry anymore. Whatever part of me they'd been able to wound had already died a little while ago.

A few minutes later, Cathy posted a screenshot in the family chat. It was her bank balance of 1,231.70 dollars.

Then came her message.

"Claire, I really don't have that kind of money. This is everything I have in my account. If you don't believe me, I can transfer all of it to you right now."

"As for the rest… I'll ask around at work tomorrow and see if anyone can lend me some. Or maybe I can look online and find some kind of loan."

That was all it took for the group chat to explode again.

"Look at the position Cathy's in! Claire, how can you still bring yourself to pressure her like this?"

"You have a great career and make plenty of money. Is it really worth hounding your own sister over this? What would people say if they knew?"

"Cathy, whatever you do, don't take out one of those online loans! Your sister has money!"

I stared at the messages and almost found them funny. There had been a time when I'd had exactly 20 dollars left in my bank account. Mom and Dad had asked me to spend less, find a part-time job, and figure something out.

Now, Cathy had 1,200 dollars to her name, and suddenly the whole world was worried about her.

I'd always known Mom and Dad favored Cathy. I just kept telling myself it wasn't worth keeping score. Family wasn't supposed to be about who got more and who got less. As long as my parents loved me too, I'd thought I could live with getting a smaller share of that love.

I had given them everything I could, believing that sincerity would eventually be met with sincerity.

As it turned out, I'd been fooling myself all along.

…

The next day, right around visiting hours, a voice message from Mom came through. "Claire, you're her older sister. Do you really have to be this hard on Cathy?

"What did she ever do to you? If you're angry with her, then I'll apologize for her. Just stop pressuring her. You make more money, so what's wrong with taking on a little more?"

I closed my eyes.

Then, I typed, "Six months into my first job, I was laid off without warning. The company still owed me weeks of back pay, and I couldn't afford Cathy's dance lessons anymore. I asked her to take one month off until I got back on my feet.

"Do you remember what you told me? You and Cathy told me to take out a loan. So, I'm giving you the exact same advice now.

"Either you borrow the money or Cathy does. You're the one who ran a red light and caused the accident. Why should I be the one paying for all the consequences?"

The chat stayed silent for a long time.

It wasn't until the 15-minute visiting period was almost over that Mom finally replied, "But you're doing perfectly fine now, aren't you? Why are you still holding on to something that happened years ago?"

Then, another message appeared. "No man is ever going to want a woman who keeps score over every little thing."

I stared at the screen. I didn't even have the energy to be angry anymore. All I felt was exhaustion, mixed with the sheer absurdity of it all.

I didn't reply. Instead, I opened a rental app and started looking for apartments in Northbridge.