Paid in Full for Family Love novel Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I went home for Christmas’s break. Two days later, my sister-in-law Jennifer Anderson slid a bill across the kitchen counter.

“You’re working now,” she said. “So no more free rides. Lodging’s five hundred a night, meals are a hundred each. Two nights. That’s a grand.”

I looked at my brother.

He didn’t blink.

“Jen’s just looking out for the family,” he said. “Business is business. You stayed, you pay.”

I turned to my mom.

“Mom. Really?”

She sighed that long, put-upon sigh I knew by heart.

“Emily. Your brother and Jen are stretched thin. You’re not a child anymore. You can’t

just keep taking.”

So I nodded. Pulled out my phone. Venmo’d them a thousand dollars.

The next morning, they took that money, packed up my mom, and went on vacation.

Came back three days later to an empty house

***

When Jen shoved that receipt in my face, I seriously thought I was dreaming.

I was the one who paid for every inch of that house’s renovation. I picked out the tiles, the paint, the fixtures, every damn thing. I’d been covering the twenty-three-hundred-a-month mortgage for two years.

And now I was getting charged for sleeping in my own home?

Five hundred a night? That’s more than the Four Seasons.

Jen caught my expression and twisted her mouth.

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“What’s with the face, Emily? Think we’re overcharging?”

She ticked off on her fingers like she was walking me through a spreadsheet.

“Electricity. Water. Gas. Heat. The hot water you used, the hair dryer, phone charger.

Two hundred a night is practically cost. You should be thanking us.”

Thanking them.

Watching her, I thought back to two years ago.

Winter. Jen had an ectopic pregnancy. She collapsed at home from the pain.

My brother was out of town on business. My mom panicked, didn’t know what to do, called me sobbing. I dropped everything, rushed home, and got Jen to the ER.

If I’d been ten minutes later, she would’ve died.

The deposit for surgery was more than my credit card limit. I maxed it out, borrowed

from everyone at work, scraped together every cent.

Then I sat in that hospital room for days. Didn’t leave her side.

I still remember her clutching my hand, eyes wet.

“Emily,” she said, her voice catching, “you saved my life. I will never forget this. I

swear I’ll make it up to you.”

Forever, apparently, lasted two years.

Now she hands me a bill.

My chest tightened. I looked at my brother.

“Mike. Do you really think I should pay to sleep in my own house?”

He used to be different.

Dad died when we were kids. Mom was always working, barely home. It was Mike, clumsy, fumbling Mike, who learned to braid ny hair.

He’d skip breakfast to save up for my favorite gummy bears. When older kids cornered

me after school, he was this scrawny little kid with a stick, ready to fight.

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He’d give me the last piece of meat from his plate.

He’d stay up all night when I was sick.

He’d say, “Don’t be scared, Emily. I’m here.”

That was the brother I remembered.

But he didn’t defend me.

“Emily, don’t make this a thing,” he said. “Jen’s just trying to keep things running,” he said. “You being here, yeah, it adds up. Business is business. And you’re doing fine now.

What’s a couple hundred bucks to you?”

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