On the day the settlement money from the buyout of our parents' old house arrived, my brother secretly transferred three million dollars to my account. He explicitly warned me not to let my sister-in-law know. He told her that, according to "tradition," I was only entitled to sixty thousand dollars. My sister-in-law still complained about that sixty thousand for a long time. Later, when my brother's business went under, she came to me in a panic, begging. "Chloe, your brother can't hold on much longer. Look..." I cut her off, pulling out my phone. "Give me your account number, Sarah. I'll transfer thirty thousand." The day the buyout money hit the accounts, my phone pinged with a text from the bank. Almost simultaneously, my brother, Mark, called. His voice was low. "Did you get it?" "I got it." I stared at the long string of zeros on my screen, feeling a little hollow. "Three million. You hold onto it for now." "Mark, this is too much." "It's not. It was Mom and Dad's house. Half of it rightfully belongs to you." From the background of the call, I heard Sarah's muffled voice yelling, "Who are you talking to? Sneaking around." Mark immediately said, "I gotta go. Remember, don't tell anyone. Especially Sarah." "Why?" "You know how she is. Just trust me." The call disconnected. Before I could even process the shock of that massive sum, a message popped up in the family group chat. It was from Mark. "Chloe's sixty thousand has been transferred." Sarah replied instantly: "Finally. Now that's settled." A second later, she sent another message: "If you ask me, a married daughter is like spilled water. Giving her that sixty thousand was too much. If it weren't for the fact that she's struggling on her own, she shouldn't have gotten a dime." The group chat fell dead silent. I gripped my phone, staring at the words, and said nothing. That evening at dinner, Sarah brought it up again. "Mark, did Chloe even say thank you for that sixty thousand?" Mark kept his head down, shoveling rice into his mouth, and mumbled, "Yeah, she did." "Hmph. At least she has some conscience." Sarah picked up a piece of rib and dropped it into her son's bowl. "That money was supposed to be for Leo's college fund. Giving it away to an outsider just rubs me the wrong way." "What outsider? She's my blood sister," Mark said, irritation creeping into his voice. "So what if she's your sister? Even brothers have to keep their finances straight. She's going to marry into another family eventually. Why are you being so good to her?" "Enough. Let's just eat." Mark clearly didn't want to fight. But Sarah had no intention of stopping. She looked at Mark pointedly and said, "I just worry that some people are too eager to give our family's money away to outsiders. Mark, let me remind you, our family is counting on this buyout money now. Don't do anything stupid." Mark slammed his chopsticks down. The bowl hit the table with a sharp clack. "What exactly are you trying to say?" "I didn't mean anything by it." Sarah shrank back slightly, but her mouth kept running. "I just think people need to have a conscience. Our family took the lion's share, giving her sixty thousand was already extremely generous. If she knew what was good for her, she would have returned it." "In your dreams!" Mark roared. Their five-year-old son, Leo, jumped at the shout and burst into tears. Sarah quickly hugged him and started crying herself. "Fine! Mark Davis, you're yelling at me now? You're yelling at me and your son for your sister? I'm only thinking about this family! Do you know how many tutoring classes that sixty thousand could have paid for?!" The atmosphere in the house plummeted to freezing. Mark looked at her, his eyes filled with exhaustion. I knew this was only the beginning. For the next month, Sarah complained about that sixty thousand dollars almost every single day. "The neighbor's daughter didn't get a cent, and she's perfectly happy." "Karen from our subdivision—her sister-in-law actually gave her brother thirty thousand to help buy a car." "Sigh. Comparing people just makes you mad. Why did I get stuck with a sister-in-law like this?" She would say these things in the family group chat, or post them on Facebook, specifically blocking me from seeing them—but I always heard about it from other relatives. I never replied. Not once. I just quietly moved that three million into a high-yield CD and set a very complex password. Mark would occasionally message me privately. "Don't take what your sister-in-law says to heart." "I know." "Keep that money safe. That's my safety net for you." "You too, Mark." I didn't know if he understood what I meant. I hoped he did. After getting the buyout money, Mark was incredibly motivated. He had always wanted to start his own business but never had the capital. Now, with cash in hand, he aggressively leased a storefront and started a construction materials supply business. Sarah was entirely on board at first. She posted pictures of the new store on Facebook every day, calling Mark a business genius who was about to strike it rich. I went to the grand opening. As soon as Sarah saw me, she grabbed my hands, smiling so widely her face scrunched up. "Chloe, look how capable your brother is. When our family gets rich, we'll make sure you're taken care of." It was as if she had completely forgotten how she had obsessed over that sixty thousand dollars. I just smiled faintly. "It's good that Mark is doing well." "Of course." she puffed out her chest, pulled me aside, and lowered her voice. "Chloe, look, the store just opened, and we need money for everything right now. That sixty thousand isn't doing much just sitting in your hands. Why don't you... lend it to your brother for cash flow for a bit?" I looked at her, my heart turning ice cold. "Sarah, that's my living expense money." "Oh, come on, how much can one person spend? Besides, that money belonged to our family in the first place. Isn't it only right that you lend it to your brother now?" Her tone was so entitled, as if the money inherently belonged to her. I pulled my hand away and didn't speak. Her face changed instantly. She pulled a long face and muttered, "Ungrateful brat." It wasn't loud, but I heard it clearly. For the first few months, the business really was booming. Mark was full of energy, looking ten years younger. Sarah was even more insufferable. She posted eight times a day about new designer bags, manicures, and check-ins at high-end restaurants. 她 started organizing frequent family dinners, always rushing to pick up the check. At the dinner table, she constantly made passive-aggressive comments directed at me. "Chloe, how is the single life treating you? Work going okay?" "It's fine," I said, keeping my head down. "Sigh. Why do girls need to work so hard? Look at your brother. His business is taking off; he can easily support our whole extended family." She paused, pivoting sharply. "Speaking of which, that sixty thousand isn't earning much interest in the bank. Why not listen to me and invest it in your brother's store? We'll give you dividends at the end of the year. Isn't that better than a dead savings account?" Mark kicked me under the table, giving me a look. I pretended not to notice and just said, "I don't understand business. I'll pass." Sarah's face fell again. "Why are you so stubborn? I'm only offering you this chance to make money because we're family. Other people beg for this kind of opportunity." The atmosphere became awkward. A distant relative chimed in to smooth things over: "The younger generation has their own ideas, don't worry so much about it." Sarah dropped it, but she didn't give me a pleasant look for the rest of the meal. On the way home, Mark called me. "Ignore her. She's just obsessed with money." "I know." "If she brings it up again, just tell me." "Okay." I hung up, watching the city lights blur past the window. Honestly, I had seen the warning signs in Mark's business for a while. He expanded too fast, hired too many people, and unnecessary overhead was crushing him. Every time he saw me, he claimed everything was fine, but the bloodshot eyes and exhaustion he couldn't hide told a different story. But he didn't say anything, and it wasn't my place to ask. He was the man of the house, the provider. He had his pride. Sure enough, the good times didn't last. The market shifted unpredictably. The developers downstream ran out of capital, leaving Mark with a massive pile of unpaid invoices. The store's cash flow collapsed overnight. First came the layoffs, then selling off the delivery trucks. The tone of Sarah's Facebook posts changed too. Instead of bragging, she started sharing "inspirational" quotes and articles about "never giving up." She stopped organizing family dinners and barely spoke in the group chat. The atmosphere in their home grew increasingly suffocating. One day, I bought some fruit and went to visit them. When the door opened, a heavy cloud of cigarette smoke hit my face. Mark was sitting on the couch, the ashtray by his feet overflowing. He had lost a significant amount of weight, his beard was scruffy, and his eyes were hollow. Sarah sat on the other side, her eyes red and swollen. She glared at me with pure resentment. "Why are you here?" she asked icily. "I came to see Mark." "See him? You came to laugh at him?" Sarah suddenly stood up, pointing at Mark. "Look at him! This is all because of you! You jinx!" I froze. "If he had listened to me and just put the money in the bank, none of this would have happened! But no, he had to start a business! And now the money is gone!" She turned her fury on me. "And you! If you had a shred of conscience, if you had just given him that sixty thousand when he needed it, he wouldn't be in this mess! You're cold-blooded! Ungrateful!" She was screaming hysterically. Mark suddenly stood up and slapped her hard across the face. "Shut your mouth!" The living room fell dead silent, save for Sarah's shocked gasp. She held her cheek, massive tears rolling down her face. "Mark Davis, you hit me? You hit me for her?" "I hit you for running your toxic mouth!" Mark was shaking with rage. "The business failing is my fault. It has nothing to do with Chloe! Try saying one more crazy word, I dare you!" Sarah collapsed onto the floor and started wailing. The sound was shrill, ear-piercing, full of despair and grievance. Standing at the door, watching this absolute disaster, my chest felt incredibly tight. I placed the fruit on the shoe rack and said softly, "Mark, I'm going to head out." I turned and walked downstairs. The crying and arguing faded behind me. I knew the real storm was yet to come. After that, Mark didn't contact me again. I knew he was trying to endure it alone. He didn't want me to see him look any more pathetic. Until one afternoon, an unknown number called my phone. It was Sarah. Her voice was hoarse and exhausted, completely lacking her usual arrogance. "Chloe, where are you?" "At home." "Can you... come out for a bit? I'm at the coffee shop downstairs from your apartment." My stomach dropped. I knew the inevitable had arrived. I changed and went downstairs. I spotted her from a distance, sitting by the window. She looked incredibly haggard, wearing a faded old jacket, her hair a mess. Her former polished look was completely gone. Seeing me, she forced a smile that looked worse than crying. "Chloe, you're here." I sat across from her and didn't speak. She stirred her black coffee for a long time before struggling to speak. "Your brother... he can't hold on much longer." Her eyes instantly reddened. "He's drowning in debt. People are coming to the house every day demanding money. The store is closed, we sold everything we could, and there's still a massive hole we can't fill." She looked up at me with pleading eyes. "Chloe, I know I was wrong before. I apologize. But right now, you are the only one who can help us." She pulled a crumpled debit card from her purse and pushed it toward me. "I know you still have that money. Your brother told me everything. He gave you... he gave you a lot." Looking at her, I finally understood. Mark couldn't handle the pressure and confessed. I just didn't know how much he had confessed. "Chloe, please, I'm begging you. Take the money out and save your brother's life! If this continues, those debt collectors will drive him to his grave!" She looked like she was about to get on her knees. I held her arms, looked her dead in the eye, and asked slowly, deliberately. "How much did Mark say he gave me?" Sarah froze. Her eyes darted away, and she stammered, "He... he said... he gave you a few extra tens of thousands to round it up..." I sneered internally. Even now, at the absolute edge, he was still preserving his final shred of dignity—or rather, he was still guarding against her. He hadn't told her the truth. Seeing my silence, Sarah grew more frantic. "Chloe, your brother can't hold on much longer. Look..." I cut her off, pulling out my phone and opening my banking app. "Give me your account number, Sarah." Her eyes lit up instantly, like she had grabbed a lifeline. She hurriedly rattled off the account number. I entered it, then moved to the amount field. I typed a '3'. Followed by four zeros. "I'll transfer thirty thousand." Sarah's expression froze. The light in her eyes visibly died. "How much?" she asked, as if she hadn't heard correctly. "Thirty thousand." I turned the screen toward her so she could see the number clearly. "That's all I can give." "Thirty thousand?" Her voice spiked, sharp as nails on a chalkboard. "Chloe Davis! What is thirty thousand going to do? Are you tossing change to a beggar?" People in the coffee shop turned to look at us. She bristled like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "Your brother needs money to save his life! And you? You pull out thirty thousand to humiliate us? Do you have any conscience at all? After everything your brother did for you?!" I looked at her calmly and pulled my phone back. "Sarah, Mark gave me sixty thousand initially. The whole family knows that. I haven't touched a dime of it. I've been working for a few years and saved twenty thousand myself. That's eighty thousand total. I'm giving you thirty, keeping fifty for my own living expenses. Is there a problem with that?"
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