I Worked On My Birthday, My Mom Texted: “We Sold Your Car — Family Comes First. Thanks For Being Flexible While You Stay Here.” Then She Added, “Oh, And Your Brother’s Starting College — We’re Hoping You Can Help With His First Semester. $6,000, Due This Week.” I Said: “No”. My Dad Said Loudly: “Pack Your Things — We Need You To Move Out.” So I Did And Left Something Behind. And The Next Morning,…

No happy birthday. No emoji. Just my entire independence gone in one message.

I’m Ava. I’m 22. And that car was the one thing I’d worked two years of early mornings and late nights to buy.

My hands were still sticky from spilled syrups when the next text came in. Your brother’s starting college. You’ll cover his first semester.

$6,000. It’s due this week. Like I was an ATM with a pulse.

I stared at the screen, my chest burning. Then I typed one word back. No.

A second later, my phone lit up with a call. I answered, and all I heard was yelling. “Pack your— You’re not part of this family anymore.

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