Raised to be Broke

I stood frozen where I was, thinking my phone had glitched. But the message box did not disappear.

The excitement I had been holding onto slowly faded. I gripped my phone tightly, staring at the shocking lines of text scrolling across the screen.

My name was Roxanna James, and I did have an older brother. Three years ago, after graduating from college, he had gone to Mariner's Bay to work.

I had always thought he was struggling. Every time my scholarship money came in, my parents would sigh heavily at home. It was only when I suggested giving the money to my brother that they would finally smile.

So what was all this?

Meanwhile, more messages flooded the screen, one after another.

'Your brother is just coasting as the hands-off boss of your family's subsidiary! He doesn't have to do anything and still gets paid. Look up the legal representative of Heritage Holdings. That's your father, the one who cries poverty every day!'

'They only stay in that rundown house when you're back from the dorms. The rest of the time, they live in Riverbay One.'

Riverbay One. The most famous luxury residential district in the city. Every inch of land worth a fortune, units priced in the tens of millions.

My face went pale. All the excitement drained out of me, sinking back into a hollow, uneasy calm.

I stood there, lost, not knowing what I was supposed to do next.

That day, I wandered outside until nightfall. When I finally returned home, I told my parents the good news.

Just like the messages had predicted, neither of them looked happy.

My mother pressed her lips together before speaking, her tone hesitant. "Roxy… your dad and I have talked about it. The train tickets to Kingston are too expensive. Why don't you just apply to the university nearby?"

My head shot up. My father must have thought I was unwilling, because he immediately slammed his cutlery down. "Roxy, our family is dirt poor. Don't tell me you want to go all the way to Kingston for college!

"Once you're in university, you can work part-time on weekends. And when your scholarship money comes in, transfer it to your brother. He needs to buy a car. He has to keep up appearances at work. You're a girl, you don't need that much money!"

My heart went completely cold.

After coming home, I started noticing the obvious. There was no trace of grease in the kitchen. The bottles and jars on the stove looked almost untouched. No clothes were hanging out to dry on the balcony, and there were barely any personal belongings in the living room.

The only things in this house that actually belonged to anyone… were mine.

After my father slammed his cutlery down, silence fell over the room.

My mother hurried to smooth things over. "The local university isn't bad. It's close to home. You can come back on weekends for meals."

I wanted to say I had a scholarship. I wanted to say I could work. But my father did not give me the chance.

He stood up and walked over to me. "When you get to university, transfer your scholarship money to your brother. He has it rough, working out there. A man needs his dignity. He has to have a car."

It was precisely as the messages had said.

The excitement in me was extinguished in an instant, like my own parents had poured a bucket of cold water over my head.

My mother nodded in agreement. "That's right, Roxy. Your brother is working hard in Mariner's Bay. As his sister, you should support him."

The message box popped up again.

'Can you believe her parents? A 25-year-old brother living lavishly still needs his barely adult sister to support him. The nerve!'

'Poor child. They clearly—'

"Doesn't Colin have his food and housing covered?" I asked.

"That still costs money!" my mother snapped, her voice rising. "Your brother only earns so little. If you don't care about him, who will?"

I fell silent.

I lowered my head and looked at my shoes. They were canvas sneakers that cost thirty dollars. I had worn them for three years.

But the message box was telling me my brother's monthly allowance was more than 300 thousand.

I pressed my lips together, forcing my tears back. "I understand, Mom, Dad. I'll apply there."

My parents both let out a sigh of relief in response. My mother passed me a plate. I hurriedly took a few bites, then returned to my room.