Chapter 2
"Without our family, she's nothing!" Dad snapped.
They started dividing up the tasks.
Dad took charge of calling the relatives in our hometown, telling them to keep an eye out for me.
Mom was tasked with staking out the spots I used to frequent.
Ethan was in charge of rallying his so-called "buddies" to search for me all over the city.
An invisible net spread out from that house, wrapping around the city and tightening its grip on me.
They still thought I was the same daughter who would rush back home scared the moment they raised their voices.
But they had no idea.
Once a caged bird tastes the sky, it's never going back.
My phone lay quietly on the hotel table.
The screen showed dozens of missed calls and hundreds of unread messages.
I picked up my phone.
I hadn't turned it off.
I just pressed the mute button.
I loved listening to their impotent rage echoing from places I'd never be found.
Just like all those years when they enjoyed watching me quietly endure everything alone.
Now, it was their turn.
The hotel curtains were thick.
They blocked out all the sunlight.
The room felt like a quiet cave.
I slept for ten hours.
When I woke up, I didn't feel the slightest bit tired.
It was probably the best sleep I'd had in ten years.
No nightmares waking me up in the middle of the night.
No morning anxiety gnawing at me.
My phone was blown up with 99+ missed calls.
Texts? Same story, 99+ unread.
I tapped them open and skimmed through the messages.
Mom: [Sophia, please come home. I know I was wrong. I'm sorry.
[If you come back, we won't hold the money against you. The family needs you.
[If you don't come home, I'll end it all!]
Dad: [You ungrateful brat! Three hours—get your ass back here, or I'll break your legs myself!
[Getting cocky now, huh? Forgot who raised you?
[Got your location. You better be ready.]
Ethan: [Come on, Sophia, enough already. How long are you gonna keep sulking?
[Car payment's coming up next month. Transfer the money, will you?
[If you keep ghosting me, don't blame me when I post your pics online and tell everyone you took all the family's cash and ran off with some dude!]
Emily: [You think you can hide? We've got your SSN. Let's see if the cops can't hunt you down!]
I went through the messages one after another.
Threats, bait, insults, and emotional blackmail.
They threw every trick they had at me.
Not a single emotion crossed my face.
Not a single ripple in my heart.
It felt like I was watching some cringy solo performance that had nothing to do with me.
I picked up my phone, ready to reply.
After thinking it over, I only sent five words, to my Mom. [I made that money myself.]
Then, I blocked every last one of them at once.
Finally, everything was quiet.
I got up and washed up.
The woman in the mirror looked a little pale, but her eyes were bright.
It was the glow of someone who'd just been given a second chance at life.
I slipped into my brand-new clothes.
I walked out of the hotel.
The sun was out.
The warmth soaked into my skin.
I called a cab and went somewhere.
It was a small, unremarkable print shop on the west side of the city.
I pulled a USB drive from my bag.
"Can you print everything on this and bind it into a booklet?" I asked the owner.
"Sure thing," he replied, plugging the USB drive into his computer.
When he saw what was on it, he shot me a surprised glance.
It was an Excel sheet.
Crammed with numbers, covering ten years.
Starting from my very first day on the job.
Every dollar I earned.
Every dollar I spent.
Medication for Dad: 120 dollars.
Allowance for Mom: 1,000 dollars.
Computer for Ethan: 3,000 dollars.
Emily's purse: 4,000 dollars.
Utilities: 150 dollars.
Mortgage payment: 1,900 dollars.
The list went on.
Every single dollar was accounted for.
Every entry was backed up with screenshots of bank transfers or payment receipts.
The printer whirred to life.
A4 sheets started piling up, one after another.
Each page was proof of ten years of my youth they drained from me.
Finally, the owner bound the thick stack of papers into three volumes.
They felt like three heavy verdicts.
"That'll be one hundred dollars," the owner said.
"Okay," I replied.
I paid and picked up the three booklets.
They were heavy.
I slipped two of them into a file bag.
Then I called for a delivery service.
The addresses were my family's house and Ethan's place.
After I finished, I looked at the last booklet in my hand.
This one was for me.
And for someone else.
I made a call.
The phone was picked up almost instantly, barely ringing once.
"Hello, Sophia." The voice on the other end was calm and warm.
"Andrew, it's me.
"I'm ready now.
"We can start whenever you want," I said.
On the other end, Andrew let out a low, warm chuckle.
"I've been waiting three years to hear you say that," he replied.
"Yeah. I'm done running this time."
"Alright. See you in court."
"See you in court."
I hung up.
I looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn't seem real.
Dad was right.
I've finally grown wings.
But I'll never forget who tried to break them when they were just starting to form.
And I'll never forget who offered me a branch to perch on when my wings were still fragile.
Andrew Foster was my college senior.
He was the ace up my sleeve in this whole game.
They thought all I did was take the money.
They thought I was just acting out.
But they had no idea.
What I wanted was never just the money.
What I wanted was for them to end up with nothing.
What I wanted was to take back everything that was rightfully mine.
That included the house I bought with my hard-earned money, but the deed was in my dad's name.
*****
When the delivery guy called, Mom was in the kitchen, smashing dishes.
Dad was sprawled on the couch, lighting one cigarette after another.
Smoke hung heavy in the air, swirling around the room.
The tension was suffocating, like the sea right before a storm hits.
The phone rang, shrill and piercing.
It was Mom's phone.
She picked up, clearly irritated.
"Who is it?" she snapped.
"Hello, I've got a delivery for you. Could you please open the door?" the delivery guy said.
"A delivery? I didn't order anything!" Mom snapped.
She was about to hang up.
"It's a document sent by Sophia Brooks," the delivery guy said.
The moment she heard "Sophia Brooks," it was like someone flipped a switch inside her.
Mom sprang to her feet in an instant.
"I'll be right down!" she shouted.
She thought I'd finally backed down.
She thought I'd mailed the card back.
She rushed downstairs and snatched the file bag from the delivery guy.
The bag was thick and heavy.
She couldn't wait—she ripped it open, her hands trembling with impatience.
But what she pulled out wasn't the bank card.
It was a neatly bound booklet.
On the cover, in bold black letters, it read: Sophia Brooks' Ten-Year Family Expense Ledger.
Her hands started to shake.
She flipped through the pages, one by one.
The first page listed Dad's medical bills.
The second page covered the water, electricity, and gas bills.
The third page was Ethan's tuition fees.
The fourth page was Emily's engagement gift.
The list never ended.
Every single entry had the date, the amount, and what it was for.
And every entry was backed up with clear screenshots of the receipts.
The numbers were like sharp knives.
They hit her like daggers, cutting straight through her eyes.
The more she flipped, the more her hands shook.
The color drained from her face, bit by bit.
Finally, she turned to the last page.
It was the grand total.
A number so astronomical, Mom couldn't even dream of it.
914,500 dollars.
The booklet slipped from her hands.
It fell to the floor.
It landed like a butterfly, lifeless and utterly spent.
*****
At the same time, at Ethan's place, he got the exact same "gift."
His reaction? Way more explosive than Mom's.
He stared at the entries.
The money for his latest phone.
The cash for his gaming gear.
The tab for all those nights out with his buddies.
The tips he sent to those online streamers.
Every single one of them—paid for by me.
His face went from red, to white, to a sickly green.
Emily leaned in for a peek.
When she spotted her ten-thousand-dollar purse right there in the records, she just screamed.
"What does she mean by that? Is she holding a grudge?
"What's wrong with us spending her money? She's the older sister. Isn't that what she's supposed to do?
"Ethan! Look at you, you loser! Still mooching off your sister!" she cursed.
"Shut the hell up!" Ethan slammed the ledger down on the floor.
"It's all your fault! If you weren't always wanting to buy stuff, would I have to keep begging her for cash every day?"
"You're blaming me? What about all those nights you spent at the bar or gaming? And who do you think paid off your car loan?"
"Fuck! I'm gonna beat the crap out of you today!"
The two of them started brawling right there in the house, all because of that ledger.
*****
Just then, the phone at my place rang again.
The call was for my dad.
It was an unknown number.
He picked up.
"Hello, is this Mr. Robert Brooks?" The voice on the other end was calm and composed.
"Yeah, that's me. Who's this?"
"This is Andrew Foster from Trust in Reach Law Firm. I hold Power of Attorney for Ms. Brooks."
The word "attorney" was a bombshell to my dad.
The word echoed in his ear like an explosion.
He suddenly clenched the phone tighter.
"I'm officially notifying you and your family.
"This concerns the money Ms. Brooks paid for the family over the past ten years, which was not intended as a gift.
"The total amount is 914,533 dollars.
"We expect the entire sum to be returned," Andrew said.