When I dragged myself back to my parents’ house after 2 a.m., exhausted beyond words, the living room lights were always blazing. The TV blared loudly, mixed with bursts of laughter.

There, sprawled across the sofa, were my unemployed sister Ashley and her husband, Chris, surrounded by empty pizza boxes and beer cans.

“Oh, you’re home, Kelly. You’re late,” Ashley said without taking her eyes off the TV. “Hey, could you run to the store and get some ice cream? Vanilla.”

“I just got back. Go yourself.”

“Huh? We’re tired.”

Tired from lying around the house all day.

My parents were even worse. They took the $500 I paid every month toward household expenses as if it were their natural right.

“Kelly, have you paid this month yet? The electricity bill went up, so starting next month, make it $600.”

“Mom, my part-time wages are already at their limit. Why don’t you ask Ashley and Chris to contribute, too?”

The moment I protested, my mother’s face hardened.

“Ashley has it hard. She has two small children. You’re single and carefree, aren’t you? We’re family. It’s only natural to support each other.”

The word carefree stabbed into my chest like a sharp knife.

What part of my life was carefree?

Every day felt like walking a tightrope. If I caught a cold and missed work, I risked losing my food money for the following month.

Still, I endured it. Someday, once I earned my license and became a registered nurse, I could leave this house and live on my own.

That hope alone kept me going.

One night, the moment I opened the front door, the rich aroma of roast beef and red wine filled my nose. My stomach growled loudly against my will.

Lunch that day had been nothing more than a single jelly drink gulped down on the move. I was dizzy from hunger and exhaustion, but I knew all too well that this feast wasn’t meant for me.

When I stepped into the living room, it felt like entering a different kingdom.

The dining table was covered with lavish dishes, and my mother Grace, my father David, my sister Ashley, her husband Chris, and their two sons were eating cheerfully.

“Oh, you’re back.”

My mother noticed me and paused with her fork midair. In her eyes, I caught a faint trace of annoyance, as if an interruption had arrived.

“Welcome home, but I’m sorry. Today is Ashley’s recovering from child care party. We didn’t prepare anything for you.”

Without a word, I took off my shoes and headed for the kitchen refrigerator.

There should have been the salad chicken I’d splurged on with my own money after getting paid yesterday. My lunch for tomorrow.

But when I opened the fridge, it was gone.

“Hey, where’s my chicken?”

When I turned around, Chris wiped sauce from his mouth with a napkin and said casually, “Oh, that? Sorry about that. I used it as an appetizer earlier. The expiration date was coming up anyway, so I took care of it.”

“Took care of it? That was my lunch for tomorrow. I bought it with my own money.”

“Don’t be so picky, Kelly,” Ashley cut in, swirling her wine glass. “It’s just a few dollars. Why get so worked up? Chris is under a lot of stress from job hunting right now. If you’re family, shouldn’t you want to help your brother-in-law get some nutrition?”

The last time Chris had gone to a job interview was over six months ago. I knew exactly how he spent his days. Online games and sports on TV.

“My hourly wage is low. Do you have any idea how long I have to work just to afford that chicken?”

When I raised my voice, my father, David, slammed his hand on the table.

“Kelly, how dare you speak to your sister like that? You’re being narrow-minded. This is a good opportunity. Let’s talk about money.”

He placed a thick envelope on the table.

Just from the bulge of the bills inside, I could tell it was a substantial amount.

He slid the envelope, not toward me, but toward Ashley.

“Here you go, Ashley. This month’s support. There’s $2,000 in there.”

My eyes widened.

$2,000. He handed it over effortlessly to a daughter who didn’t work at all.

“Thank you, Dad. This really helps,” Ashley said, hugging the envelope with a beaming smile.

“Wait a second, Dad. When I asked you for help with my textbook costs last week, you said you couldn’t afford it, didn’t you? So, how can you give Ashley that much money every month?”

My mother answered with a sigh.

“Kelly, you really don’t understand. Ashley has a family to protect. Appearances matter, and we can’t let the children feel miserable, can we? They need dignity.”

Dignity.

Don’t I need dignity, too?

“You’re single. Living for one person is manageable. Ashley and her family are just in her charging phase of life.”

I swallowed my anger and retreated to my room.

But the moment I opened the door, I was struck speechless.

My small room, supposed to be my sanctuary, had been ransacked.

The anatomy notes I’d spread across my desk were scattered all over the floor. My precious textbooks were scribbled over with crayons, and several pages had been torn out.

On the bed, my nephews were jumping up and down with their shoes still on.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

When I shouted, the kids burst into tears in surprise, and Ashley came rushing in.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing to my children?”

“Look at this. My notes are ruined. I have a test tomorrow.”

“They’re just pieces of paper, aren’t they? The kids were just playing. Try being more open-minded. Honestly, studying all the time really warps your personality.”