PART 2
A faint smile touched my lips.
“Pay your bills?” I repeated calmly. “Mom, you just told me to pack my bags and become independent. Independent people pay their own expenses, don’t they?”
The color disappeared from her face.
She released my arm.
“Don’t play games with me, Harlow. You know what I mean. The automated mortgage payment, the credit-card payments… January hasn’t gone through yet. You can’t just cut us off because of one family disagreement.”
Dad pushed back his chair and stood.
“What is she talking about, Margaret? What bills?”
His eyes moved between us as his usual authority began to crack.
Leo gave a nervous laugh.
“Yeah, Harlow, what kind of joke is this? Mom, why is she talking like she pays our bills? She’s a freelance writer. She doesn’t even make enough to rent a decent place.”
I turned toward him, my duffel bag still over my shoulder.
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
His smile faded.
“You’ve all spent years laughing at my ‘freelance work’ because none of you ever bothered to ask what I actually do.”
I pulled out my phone, unlocked it, and mirrored the corporate banking dashboard onto the large living-room display.
The screen lit up beneath the Christmas decorations.
**Apex Cloud Solutions.**
A multimillion-dollar enterprise infrastructure company.
Founded by me.
Built by me.
And still majority-owned by me.
Nobody spoke.
“For the past three years,” I said, “almost every luxury you’ve enjoyed has been subsidized by my dividends.”
I looked around the room.
“This house. Leo’s sports car. Mom’s shopping. Dad’s retirement contributions.”
Dad stared at the numbers on the screen.
His mouth opened slightly.
“You didn’t support me,” I continued.
“I supported all of you.”
His face slowly lost color.
Leo looked between the screen and me.
“That’s yours?”
“Yes.”
Mom whispered my name.
I ignored her.
“And since we’re talking about independence…”
I tapped my phone.
“Effective immediately, every recurring transfer, credit line, and mortgage subsidy linked to your accounts has been canceled.”
