"Lia, have you made up your mind about the tuition?" My father, Jason Conley, sat at the head of the dining table, cradling the same ceramic mug he'd used for the past ten years.I was wiping grease off the table with a rag. "I have."My mother, Meredith Conley, came out of the kitchen with a plate of sliced watermelon and set it on the coffee table. "Good."She let out a long breath of relief. "Dylan's startup is at a critical stage. He can't afford to have his funding dry up now."She picked out the reddest slice of watermelon and handed it to my brother, Dylan Conley, who was sitting on the couch playing a video game.Without even looking up, Dylan leaned over and took a bite. "Thanks, Mom."Then, his mouth still full, he said to me, "Once I get through this round of funding, I'll take you to pick out a new phone. That piece of junk you have is so slow that it takes you forever to answer my texts. It's a pain."I glanced down at the old phone sticking halfway out of my pocket
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