Chapter 5
Mom was silent. For years, she had treated my work as a quirky technical hobby while celebrating Andrew’s every press release, every promotional luncheon, every shiny new watch.
“If you had all that,” she said, her voice wavering, shifting from confusion to defensiveness, “why didn't you tell us? Why keep it a secret? Why play games with your brother?”
“Because Andrew looked me in the eye and said that if his wife or his friends knew his little sister was keeping a roof over his head, he would rather go bankrupt. He chose the secrecy, Mom. Not me. I agreed to it because I loved him, and because I didn't want Maisie and Poppy to lose their school or their stability. But tonight, he took Dad’s wooden stars out of my hand, handed them back to me in the hallway, and told me I wasn't polished enough to stand in the room I was paying for.”
Mom exhaled slowly. “He shouldn't have done that. That was wrong of him, Meredith. Truly. But he’s your brother. He’s under immense pressure. Can’t you just... forgive it? Give him another year to get on his feet?”
“He’s had three years to get on his feet, Mom. Instead of building a foundation, he used my money to buy a higher pair of stilts. If I keep holding him up, he’ll never learn how to stand. I’m done.”
“Meredith, if you do this, they’ll have to move. They might have to pull the girls out of St. Jude’s!”
“The girls are protected,” I said firmly. “I instructed Gregory that their tuition remains funded through eighth grade. Their health insurance remains funded. But the penthouse, the luxury cars, the country club dinners, and the phantom lifestyle? Those belong to Andrew now. If he wants to live like a king, he has to earn the crown.”
“You're being cruel,” Mom whispered, her voice tightening with an old, familiar resentment. “You always were stubborn, Meredith. Just like your father.”
“Dad wouldn't have let him steal another man’s coat and call it his own, Mom. And neither will I.”
“Meredith—"
“Goodnight, Mom. Call me when you want to talk about how you’re doing, not how Andrew wants me to pay for his mistakes.”
I hung up, placed the phone face down on the table, and finally let the tears come. They didn't burn. They were just cold, quiet releases of tension that had lived in my jaw and between my shoulder blades for three long years.