The sizzle of steaks on the grill was loud, but not loud enough to drown out my father’s voice as it sliced through the air. “Hey, Madison,” he called out with a smirk that told me trouble was coming. “You’re old enough to pay rent or get out. This isn’t a charity.”
The laughter that followed wasn’t just his. It came from my stepmother, Denise, and my younger half-brother,
Tyler, who leaned back in his chair, popping open another beer like he’d just heard the best joke of the night.
My hands tightened around the plate I was holding, the paper edges crumpling. It wasn’t just the words; it was the timing. He said it in front of the whole family, while neighbors mingled in the yard, pretending not to hear. He wanted them to hear. He wanted me humiliated.
I set the plate down slowly on the picnic table, forcing my voice to remain steady. “You’ve been taking half my paycheck for years, Dad. I’ve been paying the bills.
His face twisted into that exaggerated shrug he used when mocking me. “So? That’s called life. If you don’t like it, find somewhere else to live.”
Tyler chuckled under his breath. “Good luck with that.”
The air felt heavy with the scent of grilled meat and something darker: betrayal. I could feel the eyes on me from across the yard. They all thought I’d stay quiet,
maybe cry later in my room. But that wasn’t going to happen this time. I stepped closer to him, close enough that the flicker of the grill’s flames lit up his smirk.
