“Emily, where’s the silver crossover I bought you?” Aunt Clara asked at dinner. Before I could answer, my mother smiled. “Her brother needed it more.”

I need transportation to work.”

She ignored my reasoning.

Three days later, Jason arrived carrying a spare key Mother had secretly taken during a family visit.

He drove off before I returned from work.

When I confronted them, Dad said, “Stop being selfish. You’re single. Jason has a family.”

I was too exhausted to argue.

But I wasn’t naive.

The crossover was registered to me, not Mother.

I’d already reported the unauthorized removal to police and contacted my insurer.

I hadn’t told my parents because I wanted to give them