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I’m Anna, twenty-two years old, and honestly, I hadn’t planned on moving back in with my parents, but here I was.
The job hunt didn’t take long, thankfully. Within a week, I landed a position at Davidson Marketing with a pretty decent salary and promising performance bonuses.
That evening, over Mom’s meatloaf, I shared my good news. I figured I’d stay here for about three months, save up some money, and then get my own apartment.
The clinking of forks against plates stopped abruptly. Mom and Dad exchanged one of their looks, the kind that always meant trouble.
“Moving out?” Mom set down her fork. “Anna, you know I can only work part-time at the library because of my back problems.”
Dad cleared his throat. “Things aren’t great at the plant. There have been rumors of layoffs.”
“We could really use your help with the bills,” Mom added softly. “And you wouldn’t have to pay rent here. It just makes more sense, doesn’t it?”
I stared at my half-eaten meatloaf, feeling trapped. They had a point, sort of, and they were my parents, after all.
I guessed I could stay longer.
Life fell into a routine after that. I went to work, came home, paid the bills, and Mom made sure dinner was always on the table.
It seemed okay, manageable even, until last weekend, when my sister Sarah showed up with her husband Mike and their kids, Emma and Lucas.
The change in my parents was like someone had flipped a switch.
“Oh, my precious angels,” Mom cooed, scooping up four-year-old Emma while Dad swung Lucas onto his shoulders. “Sarah, darling, you look wonderful. How’s everything going? Tell us all about what you’ve been up to.”
I stood in the doorway, watching as my parents fawned over their eldest daughter and her perfect little family.
They hung on her every word, asking for details about the most mundane things—how her garden was doing, what new words Lucas had learned, how her book club was going.
They’d never shown that kind of interest in my life, not even when I made Dean’s List or won the business school’s leadership award.
“Anna, be a dear and put on some coffee,” Mom called over her shoulder, not even looking my way as she bounced Lucas on her knee.
Standing in the kitchen that day, listening to my family’s laughter from the living room, I couldn’t help but think back to how things had always been.