<b>Chapter 90 </b>
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I noticed people beginning to stare and lowered my voice. “Jason, you’re twenty–two years old. It’s time to take responsibility for yourself. I can’t keep bailing you out.”
<b>63 </b>
“So that’s it? You get a fancy job and suddenly you’re too good for your family?” His eyes swept over the lobby. “This ce probably pays a fortune. You can’t spare anything for your own brother?”
“I’ve been supporting you for years,” I hissed, feeling my temper rising. “I’ve put my life on hold, taken jobs I hated, all to help our family. And what have you done? Failed out ofmunity college and spent your time ying video games?”
My mother stepped between us. “Please, both of you, calm down. Reba, honey, we’re just in a tight spot right now. Your father’s medication cost more than expected this month, and—”
“And Jason spent the rest of the money on a scam,” I finished for her. “I understand you’re in a difficult position, Mom, but I can’t keep enabling him.” I turned to my brother. “You need to find a job–a real job–and contribute to
the household.”
Jason’s face flushed with anger. “You think you’re so much better than me now that you work in this fancy ce.” He looked around the lobby, his voice getting louder. “How’d you get this job anyway? Last I heard you were selling jewelry.”
People were definitely staring now. I could feel heat rising to my face, partly from embarrassment and partly from
anger.
“I need to get back to work,” I said firmly. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow.”
“So you’re just going to throw us out?” Jason demanded. “We came all this way!”
“I’m not throwing you out,” I said, struggling to keep my voice level. “But this is my workce, and I need you to
leave now. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“You’ve changed,” my mother said sadly. “You used to always put family first.”
The guilt trip stung, but I stood my ground. “I still care about our family, Mom. But I can’t keep sacrificing everything while Jason refuses to grow up.”
My mother hesitated, her expression torn between her children. “Reba, please…”
Jason turned back, his face suddenly contorting with calcted anguish. “You know what? No.” His voice rose dramatically. “I’m not leaving until everyone here knows what kind of person you really are.”
My blood ran cold. “Jason, don’t-”
“Hey!” he shouted, turning to face the lobby. Several employees stopped in their tracks. “You all work with my sister?
You should know she’s letting our sick father suffer because she won’t help pay for his medication!”
My mouth opened but no sound came out. Security guards by the entrance shifted, uncertain whether to intervene.
“Our dad is dying,” Jason continued, his voice echoing through the marble lobby. “And she’s here in her fancy clothes, working in this fancy building, while our mother has to work double shifts just to keep him alive!”
“That’s not true,” I finally managed, my voice barely audible over the thundering of my pulse in my ears.
“She abandoned us!” Jason’s performance grew more dramatic as he noticed the growing audience. “Got herself a rich boyfriend and forgot where she came from! We’re practically homeless, and she won’t spare a dime!”
My legs felt weak. Every face in the lobby seemed to be staring, judging. The shame was paralyzing.
“Our father raised her, sacrificed everything-” Jason continued, but his tirade was suddenly cut short.
“That’s enough.”
The voice was quiet but carried an unmistakable authority that silenced the entire lobby. Dominic stood just a few feet away, his expression perfectlyposed yet somehow terrifying in its coldness.
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