"You're really going to move into a place like that?" Mom frowned, eyeing the run-down building.

"Yes," I replied.

"Getting divorced is embarrassing enough, and now you're moving out? It'll just give people more to talk about."

Her sharp voice made the movers glance over at us.

I zipped up the woven bag without looking back. "Embarrassing? Why didn't you think it was embarrassing when you took my 68 grand?"

Mom grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. "That money was for Leonel's house. We raised you all these years, and you're disowning us over a little bit of money?"

"Mom, that was the money I saved up after five years of getting beaten."

I yanked my arm free. "When you took the money, did you ever think about how I'd survive after?"

"You still have your salary, don't you? And your husband—"

"He's not my husband," I cut her off. "And I've already told you, since you took that 68 grand, don't come to me asking for help with your retirement."

Mom shook with rage. "How could I give birth to such an ungrateful daughter? What a waste it was raising you!"

"Yeah, it was a waste."

I turned to the movers. "Sir, please start loading the stuff."

When I was halfway to my place, my father, Troy Herring, called.

"You're really not going to care about us anymore?" He got straight to the point, his voice cold and harsh.

I replied, "Consider that 68 grand an advance for your retirement fund."

"Are you crazy? What's that amount going to do? More than 20 years of raising you is worth just 68 grand?"

I gripped my phone until my knuckles turned white. "Dad, were you there for me when Carl almost killed me? Now you suddenly remember me?"

"That's a different matter. Supporting your parents is a child's duty!"

"Is taking my money also your duty?" I shot back. "Supporting your son and helping him buy a house is your duty. But what about me?"

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. Then came Dad's biting voice. "If you don't take care of us, I'll take you to court!"

"Go ahead," I said. "Let the judge decide. Let's see if there's a law that says parents can take their daughter's life savings to buy their son a house."

Before I hung up, I added, "Don't forget, you're the ones who didn't want me as your daughter first."

My new apartment was on the outskirts of town. It was less than 100 square feet, but at least it was clean.

I squatted on the floor and started unpacking. When I shoved the last shirt into the closet, my phone buzzed again.

It was my brother, Leonel Herring.

"Julia, Mom and Dad are so upset that they're sick. Can't you just swallow your pride for once?"

"Sick?" I laughed. "From a guilty conscience, maybe? Or are they just worried that now there's no one left to look after them in their old age?"

"How could you say that? I'll pay you back the 68 grand—"

I cut him off. "When? When I'm dead?"

There was a pause on the other end.

I hung up and stared out the window, watching the sky grow darker.

This time, I could finally turn off my phone without worrying about being woken up by a fist in my face or another call asking for money.

…

When I found out about the trouble at home, I was busy wallpapering my new place.

The old walls had stains left by the previous tenants, like a past that could never be wiped clean.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and an unknown number flashed across the screen.

"Hello?"

"Julia." It was Leonel's voice. "This is my new number. Save it."

I didn't say anything. I just kept brushing wallpaper paste on the wall.

CHAPTER-NAME:

"Mom's in the hospital."

After saying that, Leonel paused, as if waiting to see my reaction. "She has high blood pressure. The doctor says it's pretty serious."

The wallpaper came out crooked. I set down the cutter.

"Oh," I simply replied.

"Aren't you going to visit her?" Leonel's voice went up a notch. "We're short three grand on the medical bills. I'm really tight on cash…"

I stared at the ruined wallpaper and suddenly smiled. "Leonel, how much is your mortgage for the new house?"

"5,600 dollars. Why are you asking that?" He sounded impatient.

"I'm renting this place for 800 bucks a month."

I slowly peeled the crooked wallpaper off the wall. "Mom has health insurance. After reimbursement, her out-of-pocket costs won't be over one grand. You can't even scrape together one grand?"

There was silence on the other end.

I heard the sound of a lighter flicking.

"Julia, I know you're mad." Leonel changed his tone. "But it wasn't easy for Mom and Dad to raise us. Now that Mom's lying in the hospital, all she wants is to see you."

"Does she want to see me or my money?"

I crumpled the torn wallpaper into a ball. "Wasn't Dad talking about suing me last time? Tell Mom to get her medical records ready. I'll meet her in court."

"Julia Herring! Don't you have any conscience left?"

"Conscience?" I walked over to the window and watched the neighbor's bedsheet fluttering in the wind.

"My conscience was priced a long time ago. 68 grand, the down payment for your new house. Don't you remember?"

I hung up the phone and went back to wallpapering.

The next day, I went to a labor agency to find temporary work.

After the divorce, I'd quit my old job. The company was too close to Carl's house.

Now, I had to take whatever odd jobs I could find—handing out flyers, washing dishes, cleaning houses.

"Full-time housekeeper! 150 bucks a day! Must know how to clean windows!" the agent shouted from behind the iron gate.

I pushed through the crowd and raised my hand.

The agent eyed me up and down. "You're so skinny. Can you really clean windows?"

"Yes," I said, pulling down my mask to show the scars on my face. "I've even cleaned the exterior walls."

She hesitated for a moment before handing me a slip. "Riverside Gardens. Go now."

The client was an elderly woman living alone. Her place was packed with boxes she'd scavenged.

She directed me to scrub the kitchen tiles. "Use a toothbrush to clean the grout. Get all the grease out."

I was kneeling on the floor, scrubbing, when my phone rang again.

It was Dad.

"Your mom's been diagnosed with coronary artery disease," he rasped. "The doctor says she needs a stent. We need 28 grand."

The toothbrush got stuck in the grout.

I slowly stood up. "So?"

"So you need to send the money right away!" He sounded frantic. "Your mom's almost gone, and you're still dragging your feet?"

The old lady looked over at me curiously.

I walked to the balcony. "Dad, I just paid six months' rent yesterday. I only have 500 bucks left."

"Go borrow it! Ask your friends!"

"I've already borrowed from all of them."

I glanced down at the people walking their dogs below. "Ever since you took that 68 grand, I haven't been able to bring myself to ask anyone for another cent.

"I originally planned to give that 68 grand to Carl, and then work hard to earn money so you'd live a better life. But you spent it without a word. So now all I can do is work to pay Carl back."

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"You guys chose this path," I added calmly.