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The messages came from everyone except Mason.

Lauren: Mom's crying. Derek is furious. You're tearing this family apart.

Eric: You're going to destroy Dad. He can't handle this stress. If he dies, it's on you.

Derek: I always knew you were selfish. Now everyone sees it.

My father: Rachel, please. Your mother is beside herself. She can't sleep. She keeps crying.

They called me names. They accused me of being cruel. They said I was punishing them for nothing.

Nothing.

It was nothing, they said. Just a joke. Just a child's foolish behavior. Why couldn't I let it go? Why couldn't I be the bigger person?

I scrolled through the messages, feeling my anger grow cold and sharp.

Not one of them had asked how I felt. Not one of them had apologized for the dinner, for the laughter, for the years of taking my money and pretending I didn't matter.

They wanted me to be the bigger person.

That was code for being their doormat.

I typed a response.

I will not be the bigger person. I will not keep giving to people who treat me like garbage. The mortgage is canceled. The utilities are no longer in my name. I am not paying for anything else. If Dad's health is truly at risk, then Eric can pay. Derek can pay. You can sell the house. You can get jobs. You can figure it out.

You can't take me for granted anymore.

I am done.

I sent the message to the group chat.

Then I muted my phone, put it in a drawer, and went for a walk.

The sun was warm on my face. The air smelled like spring, like green grass and wet earth and possibility. I walked for an hour, past houses with people living their ordinary lives, past children playing in yards and dogs barking at fences.

I thought about what Janelle had said.

Thirty thousand a year.

One hundred thousand over the past three years.

I could have saved that money. I could have traveled. I could have invested. I could have done anything, anything at all, except hand it over to people who never respected me.

I had been so desperate for their approval that I had handed them every weapon they used against me.

No more.

I returned home, opened the drawer, and checked my phone.

There were fifty-three new messages.

I didn't read them.