I stepped forward hesitantly. Mom stood by the stove, stirring the pasta sauce with quick, aggressive movements.
The smell of garlic and tomatoes filled the air, but it didn’t bring the usual comfort.
Lauren was already there, sitting at the table with her arms crossed. Her expression was sharp, her mouth set in a tight line.
“So,” she said, her voice cool but loud enough to cut through the silence, “you’re charging your own family now?”
I exhaled slowly and placed the salad bowl on the table, taking a moment before I answered. “I’m setting boundaries, Lauren. It’s not personal.”
Her eyebrows shot up.
“Not personal? You’re acting like I’m some random stranger asking for a favor. They’re your nieces and nephews, Emma. Family helps family.”
I clenched my jaw, already tired of this conversation before it even really started. “Family also respects family’s time,” I said firmly.
Dad sighed, finally looking up from his crossword. His face was lined with disappointment.
“You always loved taking care of them,” he said, his voice quieter than Lauren’s but carrying more weight. “Why the sudden change?”
“It’s not sudden,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
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