The $80,000 year-end bonus had just cleared my account. I was already mentally shopping for luxury gifts for my parents when my mother’s text arrived. “Sharon,” it read, “don’t you dare come home for New Year’s with your usual expensive-but-useless junk. We don’t want it.” “I’ve sent you a list. Stick to it. The items for Dustin’s family are the absolute priority—top-tier only.” Before I could even formulate a reply, the next message pinged. “P.S. Don’t forget to drive that new Mercedes E-Class back. Your father and I need something to brag about to the neighbors.” I almost typed out a refusal, but then I saw it: my brother, Dustin, had posted an Instagram Story. It was a screenshot of three first-class plane tickets. The caption: Big thanks to Mom! Finally upgrading that ride. See you soon, Atlanta! #MercedesLife #FamilyPerks … Below Dustin's post, the likes from our mutual friends piled up, but the knot in my chest tightened instead of releasing. When Dustin got married, my parents drained their retirement—not just the $40,000 for the wedding, but the $120,000 down payment on his first house. He'd even "borrowed" the entire $30,000 I'd saved from my first few years working. Now they were buying him a car? Where was this money even coming from? Before I could puzzle it out, Mom’s call came, sharp as a drill. “Sharon Marie Reynolds, did you get my messages or are you choosing to ignore me?” I explained I’d been driving, but she cut me off, her tone heavy with accusation. “Since you couldn’t be bothered to look, I’ll tell you now. Your father and I need a full-body Shiatsu massage chair. Don't skimp. Mrs. Reynolds next door got one for three thousand dollars, yours better be better. And your brother’s house needs a full smart home overhaul—Nest, Ring, all the top brands. That’s at least eight thousand. Oh, and Brielle's La Mer regimen, and Cody's full Apple suite. You will not forget a single item. I promised them.” I was listening, jaw clenched, but the five-year-old’s "Apple suite" (iPhone, iPad, Watch) made me crack. “Mom, Cody is five. Why does a kindergartener need a full Apple suite?” Her voice immediately scaled to a shout. “Because I told you to buy it, that’s why! Stop being difficult!” “Brielle says Cody is a 'high-needs' child and those things are 'standard equipment' for his social group. What kind of aunt are you? Arguing over a few gifts? You’re an embarrassment!” “Mom, that’s not what I—” She cut me off again. “I swear, I can never talk to you without getting angry. You’re going to give me a heart attack. Just follow the list, and you will drive that new car home. If you show up in anything else, you won’t be welcome inside this house.” Slam. The dial tone was a physical pain. My blood felt hot and thick, rushing to my head. I opened the list. Beyond the electronic and cosmetic demands, she’d specified I stop by the seafood market before arriving to buy Maine lobsters and Alaskan King Crab. Every detail was planned out, down to the brand of sparkling water. I immediately texted Dustin. “Hey, what did Mom tell you to bring home?” His reply was instantaneous: “Nothing, she said we just had to show up. Gotta go, boarding now.” A cold fire flared in my chest. I felt sick. From start to finish, I was the designated wallet, the fool. Just then, my cousin, Jessie, called. “Sharon? When you hit the market, grab me a couple pounds of those big shrimp, okay? Aunt Pat said to call you directly if we wanted anything, and you have to get it.” After I hung up, the family group chat exploded. All my aunts and uncles were @-ing me with their own last-minute requests. Finally, my mother summed it up: “Sharon, you got all that? Hurry home once you’ve bought everything. Everyone is excited to taste your cooking tonight.” Not only was I the designated buyer, I was the chef. "Fine," I thought, the ice forming around my heart. "If they're so hungry, I'll make sure they get exactly what they deserve." New Year’s Day. My phone was on silent. I didn't get out of bed until noon. Checking my phone, I saw 99+ notifications, nearly all of them “Mom-heavy.” She was throwing every insult she knew. I dressed slowly and started the Mercedes. As I merged onto the freeway, I answered her latest call. “Sharon Marie Reynolds, you little bitch! Are you trying to ruin New Year’s for the whole family? We’re all here waiting for you!” I honked the horn twice near the phone. “Mom, I’m driving, remember? You were so insistent I bring the new car. Did you forget how bad the traffic is on the holiday weekend?” Her tone softened slightly. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” “Okay, listen. I need you to transfer me $3,000 right now for the groceries so dinner is ready when you get here. Then, I need you to hand out $500 cash to everyone as an apology for making them wait. It’s the holidays, don't be a spoilsport.” Ha. You’re all having fun at my expense. I thought, but I spoke sweetly. “No problem, Mom. I can't pull over right now, but I promise, the second I step through the door, I’ll Venmo it to you.” Before she could argue, I hung up. I finally arrived at 7:00 PM. The moment I walked through the door, the crowd descended. “Sharon’s here! Patty, you were just saying how successful she is!” “Heard you got another promotion! Gotta be pulling in six figures a month now, right?” I forced a tight smile. “Just a little cubicle job, nothing special.” Dustin’s family rushed over. “Sis, Mom said you’re getting me the smart house system? Just Venmo me the eight grand, it’s easier, and I can pick it out myself,” he said, already holding out his phone. Brielle, his wife, scanned my empty hands, her eyes narrowing. “Sharon? Where are the La Mer and Cody’s Apple box? Oh, they must be in the car! You didn’t even call to let us know you were here! Dustin, go help your sister with the bags! She bought so much, how could a little girl carry it all?” I ignored them, walking straight into the living room. I pulled off my expensive jacket and sank onto the nearest armchair. “Don’t bother,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise. “I didn’t buy anything.” The room went instantly silent. The card players froze. The sound of popcorn chewing stopped mid-crunch. Mom came rushing in from the kitchen. She took one look at my empty hands and her face flushed crimson. “What did you say? You came back empty-handed?” “You useless, ungrateful creature! Did you hear me? I told you three days ago what to buy! Are you trying to deliberately provoke me?” She grabbed my arm and yanked me up so violently I stumbled, my head hitting the heavy mahogany wardrobe. I felt a stinging pain and a thin line of blood started to trace down my temple. My father, Tony, shuffled forward, trying to be the peacemaker. “Patty, calm down! Sharon wouldn’t do this without a reason. Maybe she just wants to give us the cash directly?” “It's the holidays, honey,” he continued, trying to placate me. “Tech and skincare prices are insane right now. Giving cash is much smarter.” The rage in my mother’s eyes dissipated slightly. She turned back to me. “Is that it? Are you going to give us the money?” Aunt Carol, sensing a shift, immediately pulled out her phone. “Sweetie, Aunt Carol isn’t greedy. Just Venmo us each $500, and this whole thing is over. We waited all day, we deserve compensation for the delay.” One by one, the other relatives held out their phones, their faces contorted by naked greed. I felt a wave of nausea. “I don’t have any money for you. If someone promised you a payment or a gift, you should go ask the person who made the promise.” The room was stunned. They were so used to the compliant, dutiful Sharon that my refusal registered slowly. My mother broke free of my father and slapped me across the face with full force. The inside of my mouth immediately tasted metallic. “How dare you talk to your elders that way? I paid for your college education and this is how you repay me? You think you’re better than everyone because you make a salary? Kneel! Apologize to every single person in this room!” Aunt Carol seized the opportunity. “She’s so rich she can’t look at her poor family anymore! The girl needs a lesson, Patty. You’re being too soft.” My mother raised her hand for another strike, but Dustin suddenly rushed forward and caught her arm. He whispered something in her ear, his eyes flicking to me and back to her. She slowly lowered her hand, glaring at me. “We’ll deal with you later. Get in the kitchen and help!” Dustin then turned to me, playing the concerned brother. “Mom’s just stressed, you know her temper. She loves you best, she always has. Come on, big holiday, let’s not let the others see us fighting.” The sheer hypocrisy of it made me sick. Mom always loved you best. That was the most hilarious lie I'd ever heard. Daughter's must be spoiled, sons must be disciplined, was their silent mantra. Yet, Dustin always got the best cuts of steak, anything he asked for. I had to earn a new pencil eraser with a week of chores. When I got a perfect score on my SATs and got into NYU on a full ride, Mom said they couldn't afford the 'extras' and tried to stop me from going. I needed the scholarship and two minimum-wage jobs just to survive. Mom, seeing me frozen, stomped over, grabbed my ear, and yanked me toward the kitchen. As she dragged me past Dustin, I saw her give him a subtle but unmistakable look. Because I, the fool, hadn't bought anything, the kitchen was practically bare. Mom chopped vegetables furiously. “You have ruined this dinner party,” she hissed. “I must have been a sinner in my past life to birth such a worthless viper.” “I’m telling you, Sharon, you will apologize to everyone at dinner, and you will give every single person ten thousand dollars. Do you want me to lose face in front of the entire family?” I glanced at her, saying nothing. I had a feeling the night was about to get much worse. My mother gave me a hard shove with her elbow. “I’m talking to you! Stop playing mute!” I dropped the knife and stared directly into her eyes. “Mom, am I really your daughter?” She froze, staring at me blankly for a long moment before recovering. “What is that supposed to mean? I carried you for nine months! You owe me for this life! Now, stop bringing up useless stuff and talk about the compensation!” She threw a ladle at me. “Hurry up and cook these six dishes. Everyone is waiting.” Before she could leave, Cody, my nephew, stormed in. He saw me and started kicking my shins with all his tiny might. “You mean woman! Give me my Apple set!” he screamed. “My mom said if you don’t, she’ll go to your office and tell your boss what a bad person you are!” Brielle followed him in, all fake concern. “Cody, honey, stop! Sharon, he’s just saying silly things, don’t pay any attention.” But the look in her eyes was pure, cold malice. I laughed, a harsh sound. “Don’t worry, Brielle. What kind of grown-up raises a kid like that? I think I finally understand.” Brielle’s face twisted. She turned to my mother. “Patty! Is this how your daughter talks to me? If you insist on keeping her here, Dustin, Cody, and I are leaving!” She grabbed Cody and made a show of storming out. My mother panicked and chased after them, yelling at me over her shoulder, “You little home-wrecker! You’ll be the death of us all!” Of course, Brielle didn't leave. Instead, Mom gave her cash to go shopping and told her to come back when dinner was ready. But when it was time to eat, the three of them were nowhere to be found. Their phones were off. Mom had no choice but to tell the twenty-plus relatives to start without them. The six pitiful dishes I’d cobbled together disappeared instantly. The complaints started immediately. Aunt Carol was the first. “Patty, you promised a feast! I haven't eaten since yesterday, and this is it? If you can’t afford it, don’t promise it!” Mom's face was crimson as she apologized, quickly deflecting the blame onto me. “It’s all Sharon’s fault! She came home late and didn’t buy anything!” Then, the final, desperate solution. “Don’t worry, everyone! We are all going to The Gilded Spoon! The best five-star restaurant in the city! Order anything you want! Sharon is picking up the entire tab!” The relatives cheered up instantly. “Fantastic! Let’s go right now!” Under the table, Mom’s hand clamped onto my thigh, her nails digging in. “You try to pull one more stunt, you little bitch, I swear I’ll call your CEO. You think your fancy ethics code would approve of an employee who disrespects her family?” I stared back at her, dumbfounded. My own mother was using my career, the one thing I valued most, as a weapon. I knew she was crazy enough to do it. It was just one dinner. I bit down hard on my inner cheek and nodded. Walking out, Mom immediately reached for a cab. “Mom, why are we hailing a cab? I drove the Mercedes, remember?” I said, walking toward my usual spot. When I got there, I froze. The space was empty. I checked my purse—the key fob was gone. “Mom. Where is my car?” Then I remembered the missing family of three. “Mom, did Dustin take my car?” Seeing my expression, she had no choice but to nod. “He’s never driven such a nice car. I just let him borrow it for a quick run.” I pulled out my phone and opened the vehicle’s tracking app. My car was over three hundred miles away, traveling at a steady 90 mph.
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