My Sister Controlled My Life with Pocket Change Chapter 09
A few years later, I finished my undergraduate degree and went straight into a master’s program.
The university arranged dormitory housing for graduate students and waived the accommodation fees.
But I still spent most of my time living at Mrs. Hartley’s place.
She always smiled and said she was getting older, that living alone was too quiet, and that she wanted me to come back and keep her company, even if it was just for a meal.
I understood what she was really doing. She was making sure I knew I wasn’t alone.
Every morning, she left a glass of warm milk on the dining table for me.
Every night, no matter how late it was, there was always a light left on in the house for me.
It had been a very long time since I’d had to worry about money.
The combination of my scholarship, school stipends, and the money I made working on projects with my advisor was more than enough for me to live comfortably.
I started buying clothes I actually liked.
I owned a computer that was truly my own.
—
All the things I once couldn’t even dream of having had now become an ordinary part of my life.
So this was what a normal life felt like.
One afternoon, right after I got back from the lab, my phone buzzed.
It was my high school teacher. We still kept in touch every so often after graduation.
I opened the message: [I heard some things about your family recently. I thought you should know.]
I scrolled down through the messages.
After my parents returned home, they were completely lost and broken.
Mom quit her job. Every day, she sat in the living room, taking out the box of the only belongings I had left behind, looking at each item one by one.
She even started sleeping out on the balcony, on the same thin blanket I used to sleep on.
No matter how much Dad tried, he couldn’t talk her out of it.
She said she was paying for her mistakes.
Rhea was exactly the same as she had always been.
She was used to a life where whatever she wanted, she got.
—
After she graduated, she refused to get a job.
The entire family had to survive on Dad’s salary alone.
When Rhea couldn’t squeeze any more money out of them, when she couldn’t buy the things she wanted anymore, she turned to taking out loans.
One loan became two, then more, and the debt kept growing.
By the time my parents found out, she had racked up a massive mountain of debt.
Debt collectors showed up at the door every single day, harassing them nonstop.
My parents had no choice but to sell the house, scraping together just enough to pay off the debt.
Dad lost his job because of the whole ordeal.
Relatives and friends wanted nothing more to do with them.
Eventually, they had no choice but to move away.
I heard they forced Rhea to look for work too.
But she had been pampered and spoiled her entire life. She lasted a few days at a job before quitting because she couldn’t handle it.
When my parents pushed her to find another one, she threw a massive tantrum.
—
“I am your daughter! I’m your only child! You’re my parents! You’re supposed to take care of me—that’s your job!”
The last message my high school teacher sent was:
[With a daughter like Rhea, your parents’ lives are as good as over.]
I turned my phone over and set it face-down on the desk.
I stared out the window at the ginkgo trees, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze. I felt nothing at all.
There was no sense of triumph like I might have imagined, and no trace of sympathy for them either.
I simply felt nothing.
I used to think I would hate them for the rest of my life.
But it turned out I was wrong.
At some point, without me even noticing, I had let it all go.
Their lives were still stuck in the past, and they were only getting worse.
But my life had moved forward long ago, and it was only getting better and better.
Mrs. Hartley knocked gently on my door.
“Zelda, time to eat!”
—
I lifted my head and called back with a smile, “Coming.”
I picked up my phone, opened the chat thread, and typed out only three words in reply:
[Got it. Thanks.]
Then I exited the chat and locked the screen.
Some people and some things, from the moment I stepped through customs, had become forever disconnected from my life.