“Mom,” I said, gripping the back of a chair, “I didn’t know she was coming. No one told me. She just showed up.”
“We didn’t think we needed to,” my mother said, as if the decision was obvious. “It’s a family apartment, and your sister needs a place to stay. You have two bedrooms. You live alone. It makes sense.”
“It doesn’t make sense for my life,” I said. “I have a lease. I have a home office. I need privacy.”
“Privacy?” The word came out of her mouth like it offended her. “Lauren, you’re being selfish.”
My throat tightened. I could hear my father in the background, his voice muffled, asking what was going on. My mother’s response was quick and clipped, telling him in a way that painted me as the problem.
“Family helps family,” my mother continued, her tone building. “Your sister lost her job and her apartment. Where is she supposed to go?”
I could feel Vanessa watching me. I could picture her face, the way she enjoyed the performance. She didn’t need to argue. My mother would do it for her.
“That isn’t my responsibility,” I said, and the moment the words left my mouth I knew they would be used against me. They sounded harsh even to my own ears.
My mother inhaled sharply, like I’d slapped her. “Not your responsibility? I cannot believe what I’m hearing. After everything we’ve done for you, giving you that apartment at such a reduced rate…”
“I pay rent,” I said, unable to stop myself. “Every month. On time.”
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