Chapter 3

After returning to campus, I stopped calling home entirely.

I hadn't planned on going back for winter break this year.

But around Christmas, my mother did something highly unusual. She called me.

"Natalie, what are you doing spending the holidays all by yourself? Come home. I made all your favorite dishes."

Hearing that rare warmth in her voice, I was pathetic enough to let a tiny spark of hope rise in my chest.

I thought maybe this was my chance to sit down and have a calm conversation with her about my allowance. Maybe she really did care about me.

So, I bought a cheap bus ticket and took a grueling thirteen-hour ride back home.

When I unlocked the door, Noah wasn't home. My mother was sitting in the living room watching TV. The kitchen was cold and dark. There were no "favorite dishes" waiting for me.

"Mom, I want to talk to you about my allowance," I said, sitting opposite her and trying to keep my voice level.

"Again?" She didn't even look up from the TV screen.

"Didn't we make this clear last time? Your brother is a boy. He has more expenses. What’s the big deal with giving him a little extra?"

"A little extra? Five hundred versus three thousand. That’s a six-fold difference. You call that 'a little'?"

"Why are you always so obsessed with money?" She slammed the remote onto the coffee table.

"So you got into Harvard, big deal. I pay for your tuition, don't I? Why can't you just be grateful?"

I took a deep breath. "Mom, I am grateful. But I just want to ask you one question."

"The rules you set back then—did they ever actually matter?"

"Ivy League gets five hundred, regional gets four hundred, community college gets two hundred. You said those words."

"That was to motivate you both to study."

"So the motivation was only for me, but the actual cash was for Noah? We weren't even playing by the same rules."

She glared at me. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You told me the allowance for community college was two hundred. What did you tell Noah?"

Silence. She went dead silent for at least five seconds. Then she stood up to pour herself some water, keeping her back to me.

"Noah is fragile. If I only gave him two hundred dollars, he would have had a mental breakdown."

"So you gave him three thousand instead."

"A young man needs to maintain his social life. He can't go out with friends and have them pay for him every time, can he?"

"What about me?!" My voice finally cracked, rising in volume.

"When I had a fever of a hundred and three and couldn't even afford a twenty-dollar co-pay, where was my dignity?"

"When I was wearing charity-bin clothes, too ashamed to look people in the eye, did you think about me?"

"When I went to sell my blood plasma just to buy food..."

"You sold blood?!"

She spun around. For a split second, I thought I saw a flash of motherly concern.

But the very next second, her words shattered that illusion entirely.

"How could you be so trashy?! What if you caught some disease? You won't be able to marry a decent guy with a ruined body! If you can't marry well, how are you going to help support your brother in the future?!"

Her only concern was that my ruined health would make me useless to Noah.

"Fine," I laughed, tears streaming down my face. "I won't sell plasma anymore."

"But you still owe me an explanation about the allowance."

"What explanation?" Her tone hardened.

"I run this house. It’s my money, and I'll give it to whoever I want. If you think five hundred isn't enough, then go earn your own damn money."

"If you're so smart and capable, don't take a single dime from this family."

I looked at her, and a strange, cold peace washed over me.

"Fine. Not a single dime."

"Starting today, you don't have to give me a cent."

I turned to walk to my room. She screamed at my back:

"You think you can survive without me? Don't think getting into Harvard makes you invincible!"

I didn't reply. I shut my bedroom door and slid down against it.

My hands were shaking uncontrollably. Not from anger, but from the cold.

The only working heater vent was in Noah's room. Mine was always like an icebox.