His eyes filled with anger, then shame.
“That’s unfair.”
“Was it fair when you gave my only ticket to Haley?”
He said nothing.
“Was it fair when I came home after hospital shifts and you let me clean while she made content for her lifestyle brand?”
My stepmother’s face hardened. “You lived under our roof.”
“I paid rent,” I said. “Quietly. Every month. To the account you said was for household expenses.”
My father blinked.
That surprised him.
Good.
“I also paid part of the utilities after your business slowed down. I paid for groceries more than once. I covered Haley’s car insurance twice because you told me the family needed help and then watched her call me pathetic at dinner.”
Haley whispered, “I didn’t know that.”
I looked at her. “No. You didn’t ask.”
The silence stretched.
Dean Bradley appeared beside me then, not interfering, just present. My father straightened immediately.
“Dr. Hensley,” the dean said, “the board is ready for photos whenever you are.”
Dr. Hensley.
The title hung between me and my father like a locked door.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” I said.
The dean nodded and walked away.
My father watched him go, then looked back at me. “Clara, let’s talk at home.”
Home.
The word felt strange.
That house had never been home. It had been a place where I slept between proving myself to people who kept moving the finish line.
“I’m not going back,” I said.
My stepmother’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
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