My sister invited us to her new lake house, beaming about the “family weekend we all need.” I offered to bring groceries, but she snapped, “You’ve freeloaded long enough.” I froze, heart pounding—I’d covered her mortgage three times last year.
…writing down everything I had paid for in the past year. Every dime. Every emergency loan she “forgot” to pay back. I listed the check I sent when her furnace broke in February. The cash I handed over when her son needed braces and she “couldn’t cover the full cost.” I even noted the Airbnb rental I paid for during our mom’s birthday last summer, because she “couldn’t swing it that month.”
I didn’t plan to confront her. Not right away. I just needed to see it all in one place. To remind myself I wasn’t crazy. That the real freeloading hadn’t come from me.
