“You are not even married yet and you have no family of your own, so what on earth do you think you need a whole house for?” she shouted while slamming her hand down on the wooden table. My father, Arthur, immediately lowered his eyes to the floor in a gesture of habitual submission, while my younger sister, Celine, leaned against the hallway doorframe and let out a soft, mocking laugh.
Eleanor took a predatory step toward me with her eyes shining with a terrifying sense of indignation and entitlement that chilled me to my core. “That money was supposed to be set aside for your sister’s wedding because she is the one who is actually following the traditional path that matters to this family,” she spat.
I felt the heat of anger rising in my chest, but I forced myself to take a slow and steady breath so that I would not lose my composure. It was certainly not the first time that my hard-earned success had been framed as a debt I owed to people who had never lifted a finger to help me.