4
A few days ago, she’d bought a $9.99 t–shirt, $15.99 black pants, and $19.99 canvas sneakers online.
I’d asked her, “Why the sudden change in style? Buying such cheap clothes?”
She just smiled sweetly. “Oh, I’m doing some volunteer work in a few days, sis. I don’t want to look too flas-
hy.”
Normally, nothing she wore cost less than five hundred dollars. Our family was well–off. My dad believed in raising his daughters to have the best, so he gave us each a $5,000 monthly clothing allowance. I usually saved most of mine, but Mandy blew through hers every single month.
Last year, she transferred sixty thousand dollars from my account without my permission, all to buy clothes
and shoes.
That’s when I discovered that my dad was actually giving Mandy ten thousand a month, while I only got five. And that’s when I finally realized, with a sickening lurch, that my father treated us differently, too.
My mom was devastated, unable to defend herself. The solution was simple: a DNA test would clear everyt hing up instantly.
I suggested it.
But my father was resolute. “You’re the spitting image of your uncle. We don’t need a test. Your face is all the proof I need!”
Mandy continued her tearful performance. “My aunt can’t have children. Uncle Ben wanted a child of his own, so he targeted Mom.”
And because it was true that my uncle was childless, almost everyone believed her story.
Under a barrage of dagger–like stares, I asked my father, “Are you sure you want to throw this family away?”
Chapter 1
15.47
Under a barrage of dagger–like stares, I asked my father, “Are you sure you want to throw this family away?”
