money that month.
Suddenly, the same family that had celebrated our financial separation seemed furious about the consequences.
One Friday evening, Patricia confronted me during dinner.
“This childish little game has gone on long enough.”
Daniel sat beside her looking tired.
Kyle and Megan were there too.
Apparently, I had been invited to my own family tribunal.
I calmly placed my napkin beside my plate.
“What game?”
“You know exactly what you’re doing,” Daniel said. “You’re making me look stingy in front of everyone.”
“No,” I replied. “Your bank balance
