earned only gave them a reason to ask for more.
“No more,” I said.
Mom exploded.
“You selfish little ingrate! After everything we did for you? Jenna has a husband and a future. She needs support. You’ve always been the responsible one. Know your place.”
I looked at the framed license on my wall and almost smiled.
“I do.”
She hung up.
Ten minutes later, Jenna texted:
Mom says you’re having some kind of breakdown. Send the money tonight and stop embarrassing yourself.
Then Dad called.
“Just pay it, Em.
