They Sang for Her and Saved Me Leftovers I Couldn’t Eat Chapter 08
“What did you just say?” His voice rose sharply, thick with disbelieving rage. “Sabrina! You think you’re too good for your own family now? You’re refusing to care for your own sister?”
“Let me make this clear: we’ve already enrolled Wallis in the top art school in Berkeley. She’s heading there next week! You’re moving out of the apartment and live with her. We’ll cover your rent!”
Dad’s tone left no room for argument.
I let out a quiet laugh. “Dad, let me be direct. First: I’m not moving out of my apartment. Second: Sending Wallis to Berkeley is your decision. It has nothing to do with me. Third: I’m not her caretaker.”
“You—” Dad sputtered, too furious to finish his sentence.
Mom snatched the phone away from him. “Sabrina! How dare you speak to your father like that! We’re asking you to look out for your sister because we trust you!”
“You get into UC Berkeley, make something of yourself, and suddenly you forget your own last name? Forget who raised you all these years?”
The familiar accusations, the same old emotional manipulation.
“I haven’t forgotten,” I said, my voice steady. “And that’s exactly why I know I owe you nothing. My scholarship is for my education, not your expenses. If you want Wallis supported, support her yourselves.”
“Nothing?! Do you think we’re beggars?!” Mom shrieked. “Do you have any idea how much we’re spending to get Wallis settled in Berkeley?”
—
Tutoring fees, rent for her apartment—everything costs money! And you won’t lift a finger to help, just sit there saying nothing!”
“That is your business.”
I had no desire to argue further. I hung up and blocked all of their numbers. Silence, at last.
I thought that would be the end of it. But a week later, as I walked out of the library, I saw the three people I least wanted to face.
Mom, Dad, and Wallis, clutching her pink suitcase with a hurt, dejected expression.
They stood right outside the library, drawing stares from dozens of passing students.
“Sabrina!” Wallis spotted me first and hurried over, eyes glistening. “Why won’t you answer my calls? We couldn’t find you anywhere. We were terrified.”
I stared at her coldly and said nothing.
Mom rushed forward and grabbed my arm hard. “You have some nerve, Sabrina! Blocking your own parents’ numbers! Do you even acknowledge this family anymore?”
Her voice shrilled loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. Every head turned toward me.
“Who’s that? Why’s there such a big argument outside the dorm?”
“I think that’s Sabrina’s family… Sounds like there’s bad blood between them.”
—
I yanked my arm free of her grip. “This is university property. Please don’t shout and create a disturbance here.”
“Disturbance? I’m disciplining my own daughter. No one gets to tell me what to do! I’m telling you straight: you will move out to live with your sister. Or you won’t know a moment’s peace!”
Dad frowned and stepped in to back her up. “Sabrina, don’t upset your mother. We only want what’s best for you. Sisters living close can support one another.”
“Support?” I looked at them, and the whole situation struck me as absurd. “You mean forcing me to be her personal servant—laundry, cooking, sacrificing my studies—so your so-called ‘prodigy girl’ can chase her dreams?”
Dad’s face turned deep red. “You… you’re making absolutely no sense!”
Just then, a clear male voice cut through the tension. “Excuse me. What’s going on here?”