Her family still had access to a joint account she had maintained for years. It was meant for “emergencies,” though she was the only one who ever contributed to it. Her year-end bonus had landed the week before.
Now, most of it was gone.
One small sentence from the patio echoed in her mind:
“This year’s only for real family.”
It was enough to make everything suddenly, painfully clear.
A Call From Someone Who Noticed
Her phone buzzed. Uncle Rufus.
“Kid, you alright?” he asked gently.
Claire told him the truth, each detail quiet and plain. He listened. When she finished, he said the words she hadn’t yet let herself think:
“They don’t see you, Claire. Not as a person. Not even as family. And you don’t have to keep giving what they keep taking.”
She didn’t cry. She didn’t shake. She simply breathed.
Drawing the Line
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