My parents left everything to my brother, so I stopped paying their bills. A month later, my mother sent me a text message.

But Eric… he’s not well. We just want to make sure he’s being well looked after.” At that moment, I lost my temper.

They didn’t even look for excuses; they knew exactly what they were doing, and to them it was perfectly justified. The years they had endured Eric’s laziness culminated in them rewarding him with everything while discarding me like a spare part. I took a deep breath, gritted my teeth, and placed the will on the table.

“Understood,” I said icily. “I’m glad I know where I stand.” Then I turned around, left the house, ignored her protests, and slammed the door behind me.

They had made their decision; now it was my turn. I never returned to that house on the outskirts of Chicago. I didn’t call them, I didn’t call them. For the first time in years, I let them solve their own problems.

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