My Sister Controlled My Life with Pocket Change Chapter 08
After spending several months in the UK, I had slowly adjusted to my new life.
My days were spent moving between the lecture halls, the labs, the library, and Mrs. Hartley’s home.
I no longer had to calculate every cent of my living expenses.
I no longer had to worry about whether I could afford to eat.
I poured myself into my studies without any distractions, and naturally, my grades were consistently at the top of the scale.
One evening, I finally cracked a particularly difficult problem that had been stumping me for weeks.
I rubbed my sore neck and glanced up, my eyes landing on that bill still sitting on my desk.
For a moment, my mind drifted.
It struck me that I hadn’t thought about my old life in a very long time.
I used to believe I would carry those memories with me forever.
But now I realized there were far too many things worth holding in my heart, and those old ones simply didn’t matter anymore.
I thought life would continue on like this, peaceful and uninterrupted.
Until the day I finished class and saw three painfully familiar figures
—
standing at the entrance to my apartment building.
My parents and Rhea.
I stopped in my tracks.
Mom spotted me first.
She rushed toward me immediately, her face stretched into a nervous, ingratiating smile.
“Zelda.”
Her voice trembled.
“Have you been doing okay?”
Dad stood off to the side, looking visibly uncomfortable.
“You must be going on break soon, right? We came to pick you up. We’ll wait and all go home together.”
I spoke calmly.
“That place is not my home, and I’m not going back.”
Mom’s face turned completely white.
Rhea stood behind them and let out a cold laugh.
“Zelda, you win. What a brilliant move. Now Mom and Dad can’t stop thinking about you. Are you happy now?”
—
I looked at her, my voice cold. “Suit yourself.”
I turned to face my parents.
“You should leave. Don’t come looking for me again.”
I tried to walk away, but Mom grabbed my arm and held on tight.
“Zelda, don’t be like that.”
She was starting to panic.
“We’re family. Can’t we just talk things out? Rhea, we spoiled her rotten. Don’t blame her for that.”
Dad frowned and glared at Rhea. “Apologize to Zelda.”
Rhea looked at them in utter disbelief.
“Apologize for what? She’s the one who abandoned this family, and now you’re siding with her?”
“Rhea!” Mom shot her a sharp warning look.
Then she turned back to me and softened her voice.
“Zelda, we know now. We didn’t treat you right before. We just wanted to check on you. That’s all behind us now. I promise I’ll be a better mother.”
A better mother?
I had waited twenty years to hear those words. I had waited long
—
enough, and I no longer wanted them.
I spoke slowly and deliberately.
“I was never one of you. I don’t even have your last name. We’re not family.”
When I finished, I didn’t look at them again. I turned and walked away.
I thought they had left after that, but just a few days later, I saw them again outside my apartment building.
This time, it was only my parents.
They were holding a few thermal food containers in their hands.
The moment Mom saw me, she hurried over and pressed the containers into my arms.
“Zelda, I made all of this myself. These are the things you used to say you wanted to eat. I didn’t pay attention back then, but I will now.”
I glanced down. She eagerly popped the lids open, and the aroma immediately wafted into the air.
Inside were the pot roast and grilled salmon I had mentioned so many times before.
I felt a sudden wave of disorientation wash over me.
Back then, when I couldn’t afford to pay for the food, I’d sit at the table with my head down, stuffing dinner rolls into my mouth and
—
pretending the smell of everyone else’s food was enough.
I thought when I finally got to taste them, I’d be overjoyed.
But now, standing here, I felt absolutely no appetite at all.
I lifted my head and looked away.
I pulled fifty dollars from my pocket and held it out to Mom, with that old dollar bill sitting right on top.
“I won’t be eating the food. Thank you for your trouble. But I don’t need it. Here’s the money for the meal. Eat, and then head back. Don’t come looking for me anymore.”
Mom clutched the money, her face drenched in tears.
Her mouth opened like she wanted to say something, but I was already walking into the building.
Behind me, I heard the sound of her choked sobs.
I paused for just a second, but I didn’t turn around. I stepped into the elevator.
The moment the doors slid shut, the noise from outside was cut off entirely.
As the elevator rose floor by floor, a quiet sense of anticipation began to bloom inside my chest.
I knew that upstairs, Mrs. Hartley was waiting for me.
—
That was my home now.