Chapter 3

"You're really going to move into a place like that?" Mom frowned, eyeing the run-down building.

"Yes," I replied.

"Getting divorced is embarrassing enough, and now you're moving out? It'll just give people more to talk about."

Her sharp voice made the movers glance over at us.

I zipped up the woven bag without looking back. "Embarrassing? Why didn't you think it was embarrassing when you took my 68 grand?"

Mom grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. "That money was for Leonel's house. We raised you all these years, and you're disowning us over a little bit of money?"

"Mom, that was the money I saved up after five years of getting beaten."

I yanked my arm free. "When you took the money, did you ever think about how I'd survive after?"

"You still have your salary, don't you? And your husband—"

"He's not my husband," I cut her off. "And I've already told you, since you took that 68 grand, don't come to me asking for help with your retirement."

Mom shook with rage. "How could I give birth to such an ungrateful daughter? What a waste it was raising you!"

"Yeah, it was a waste."

I turned to the movers. "Sir, please start loading the stuff."

When I was halfway to my place, my father, Troy Herring, called.

"You're really not going to care about us anymore?" He got straight to the point, his voice cold and harsh.

I replied, "Consider that 68 grand an advance for your retirement fund."

"Are you crazy? What's that amount going to do? 20 years of raising you is worth just 68 grand?"

I gripped my phone until my knuckles turned white. "Dad, were you there for me when Carl almost killed me? Now you suddenly remember me?"

"That's a different matter. Supporting your parents is a child's duty!"

"Is taking my money also your duty?" I shot back. "Supporting your son and helping him buy a house is your duty. But what about me?"

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. Then came Dad's biting voice. "If you don't take care of us, I'll take you to court!"

"Go ahead," I said. "Let the judge decide. Let's see if there's a law that says parents can take their daughter's life savings to buy their son a house."

Before I hung up, I added, "Don't forget, you're the ones who didn't want me as your daughter first."

My new apartment was on the outskirts of town. It was less than 100 square feet, but at least it was clean.

I squatted on the floor and started unpacking. When I shoved the last shirt into the closet, my phone buzzed again.

It was my brother, Leonel Herring.

"Julia, Mom and Dad are so upset that they're sick. Can't you just swallow your pride for once?"

"Sick?" I laughed. "From a guilty conscience, maybe? Or are they just worried that now there's no one left to look after them in their old age?"

"How could you say that? I'll pay you back the 68 grand—"

I cut him off. "When? When I'm dead?"

There was a pause on the other end.

I hung up and stared out the window, watching the sky grow darker.

This time, I could finally turn off my phone without worrying about being woken up by a fist in my face or another call asking for money.

…

When I found out about the trouble at home, I was busy wallpapering my new place.

The old walls had stains left by the previous tenants, like a past that could never be wiped clean.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and an unknown number flashed across the screen.

"Hello?"

"Julia." It was Leonel's voice. "This is my new number. Save it."

I didn't say anything. I just kept brushing wallpaper paste on the wall.