“What drama?”
“You.”
I stared at her.
She realized she had gone too far.
But instead of apologizing, she doubled down.
“You always make everything uncomfortable.”
“How?”
“You keep score.”
I laughed once.
“Lauren, you still owe me twelve thousand dollars.”
Her face went red.
“There.”
She pointed at me.
“That.”
“You brought up money.”
“Because you never let anyone forget what you’ve done.”
“I have never asked you to repay most of it.”
“You don’t have to.”
“You make people feel guilty.”
“For accepting money?”
“For acting like we owe you.”
I looked at her for a long moment.
Then I nodded.
“Okay.”
“What?”
“You don’t owe me.”
Her expression softened.
For one second, she thought she had won.
Then I continued.
“And I don’t owe you either.”
She went still.
“No more rent.”
“No more car insurance.”
“No more emergency transfers.”
“No more trips.”
“No more covering Dad.”
“No more paying Mom’s credit cards.”
Lauren stared at me.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“You’d cut off your own family?”
“No.”
“I’m stopping financial support.”
“That’s different.”
“Not to you.”
Jason touched her shoulder.
She pulled away.
“You’ll regret this.”
“Maybe.”
I walked past them.
That evening, Dad came to my door.
Unlike Mom, he did not ask politely.
He knocked hard.
Three times.
I opened it but kept the security latch on.
“What?”
“Open the door.”
“No.”
His eyes widened.
“Tessa.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m not talking through a crack.”
“Then we’re not talking.”
His jaw tightened.
“Fine.”
He lowered his voice.
“You’re going to fix the rooms.”
“No.”
“Guest services said only you can authorize changes.”
“That’s correct.”
“You put your mother beside the engine room.”
“I moved all of you to the cheapest available cabins.”
