makes us proud.”
Everyone applauded.
So beneath the table, I opened my banking app.
Available balance: $83,412.19.
For almost ten years, I had been the daughter who solved every problem.
Dad’s property taxes?
I paid them.
Mom overdrafted?
I transferred money.
Broken water heater?
My card.
Kayla needed rent?
Me.
A laptop for her business?
Me.
Kayla’s “one rough month” somehow stretched into eighteen?
Still me.
In the beginning, everyone thanked me.
Eventually, helping became expected.
Then expectation became invisible.
Kayla received jewelry, trips, speeches, and applause.
I
