Three days after I lost my job, Mom texted, “Your brother needs the apartment more than you do.” When I got home, his boxes were already in my bedroom, and Dad calmly said, “You’re unemployed. You can stay with a friend.”

whenever she believed my reaction to a problem was becoming more troublesome than the problem itself.

“Tyler’s landlord isn’t renewing his lease.”

I looked at my brother.

“Melissa’s pregnant,” Mom continued. “They need somewhere stable before the baby comes.”

“I know she’s pregnant.”

“Then you understand.”

“No.”

Her expression tightened.

“Why are his clothes in my closet?”

“Because your brother needs this apartment more than you do right now.”

I almost laughed.

Three days earlier, I had lost the property-management job I had spent nine years building my adult life