Chapter 6: You Owe This Family
My mother, Patricia Wells, stood in the hotel lobby with her worn purse clutched to her chest, scanning the room until her eyes landed on me.
She didn't recognize me at first.
When she did, her mouth fell open. "Sophia? Is that—good Lord, what happened to you?"
"Mom. What are you doing here?"
She recovered fast, grabbing my arm and steering me toward a seating area. "Derek called me. He said you'd lost your mind—filing for divorce, running around with strange men—"
Of course Derek called her. Because Derek knew exactly what button to push.
My mother had adored him from day one. A man with a stable job who "took care" of her daughter? In her eyes, I should've been grateful.
"Mom, he cheated on me."
She waved her hand dismissively. "Men make mistakes, Sophia. That's not worth blowing up your whole life. You think you'll find better at thirty-two?"
"$5,000 deposited."
I kept my face neutral. "I'm not going back to him."
She leaned in, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. "Honey, I'm not saying what he did was right. But think about your future. You have no savings—"
"I have savings."
"—no career, no education past community college—"
"$3,000 deposited."
"—and frankly, sweetheart, you've never been the type men chase. I don't know what's going on with..." she gestured at my face, "all this, but it won't last. Pretty fades. Security doesn't."
"$4,000 deposited. Attractiveness +2%."
I watched her eyes widen slightly as the changes took effect in real-time.
"Mom. I need you to listen very carefully." I kept my voice even. "Derek physically grabbed me. He humiliated me for years. He let his mother call me worthless at every family dinner while you sat there and said nothing.
"I'm done. And nothing you say will change that."
She huffed and shifted tactics—pulling out the move that always worked. Her eyes welled up. "After everything I sacrificed raising you alone... this is how you repay me?
"Your brother needs surgery on his knee, Sophia. $40,000. I can't afford it."
There it was.
Every single time, it always circled back to my brother, Kyle Wells.
Kyle, who hadn't worked a real job in five years. Kyle, who crashed cars, who borrowed money he never repaid, who somehow always needed rescuing.
"No," I said.
"Sophia!"
"I said no. I'm not Kyle's personal fund anymore."
She started crying—loudly enough that people looked over.
The system hummed. "Emotional manipulation from family member detected. Context: financial exploitation. $6,000 deposited."
Even family guilt counted. God bless this system.
My mother's tears dried up remarkably fast when she realized they weren't working. "Fine. Be selfish. When Kyle can't walk and it's YOUR fault—"
"It's his fault for jumping off a roof drunk at a party. It's always been his fault." I stood up. "Goodbye, Mom."
I walked away, spine straight, heels clicking.
In the elevator, I exhaled and leaned against the wall.
These people were never going to stop.
My phone buzzed. Ethan: "Saw a woman who looks like your mom in the lobby. Everything ok?"
I typed back: "How do you know what my mom looks like?"
"You showed me a photo once. 4 months ago. I remembered."
He remembered a photo from four months ago.
My chest did something complicated.
"I'm fine," I replied. "But I could use some company later."
His response was immediate. "Name the time."
She didn't recognize me at first.
When she did, her mouth fell open. "Sophia? Is that—good Lord, what happened to you?"
"Mom. What are you doing here?"
She recovered fast, grabbing my arm and steering me toward a seating area. "Derek called me. He said you'd lost your mind—filing for divorce, running around with strange men—"
Of course Derek called her. Because Derek knew exactly what button to push.
My mother had adored him from day one. A man with a stable job who "took care" of her daughter? In her eyes, I should've been grateful.
"Mom, he cheated on me."
She waved her hand dismissively. "Men make mistakes, Sophia. That's not worth blowing up your whole life. You think you'll find better at thirty-two?"
"$5,000 deposited."
I kept my face neutral. "I'm not going back to him."
She leaned in, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. "Honey, I'm not saying what he did was right. But think about your future. You have no savings—"
"I have savings."
"—no career, no education past community college—"
"$3,000 deposited."
"—and frankly, sweetheart, you've never been the type men chase. I don't know what's going on with..." she gestured at my face, "all this, but it won't last. Pretty fades. Security doesn't."
"$4,000 deposited. Attractiveness +2%."
I watched her eyes widen slightly as the changes took effect in real-time.
"Mom. I need you to listen very carefully." I kept my voice even. "Derek physically grabbed me. He humiliated me for years. He let his mother call me worthless at every family dinner while you sat there and said nothing.
"I'm done. And nothing you say will change that."
She huffed and shifted tactics—pulling out the move that always worked. Her eyes welled up. "After everything I sacrificed raising you alone... this is how you repay me?
"Your brother needs surgery on his knee, Sophia. $40,000. I can't afford it."
There it was.
Every single time, it always circled back to my brother, Kyle Wells.
Kyle, who hadn't worked a real job in five years. Kyle, who crashed cars, who borrowed money he never repaid, who somehow always needed rescuing.
"No," I said.
"Sophia!"
"I said no. I'm not Kyle's personal fund anymore."
She started crying—loudly enough that people looked over.
The system hummed. "Emotional manipulation from family member detected. Context: financial exploitation. $6,000 deposited."
Even family guilt counted. God bless this system.
My mother's tears dried up remarkably fast when she realized they weren't working. "Fine. Be selfish. When Kyle can't walk and it's YOUR fault—"
"It's his fault for jumping off a roof drunk at a party. It's always been his fault." I stood up. "Goodbye, Mom."
I walked away, spine straight, heels clicking.
In the elevator, I exhaled and leaned against the wall.
These people were never going to stop.
My phone buzzed. Ethan: "Saw a woman who looks like your mom in the lobby. Everything ok?"
I typed back: "How do you know what my mom looks like?"
"You showed me a photo once. 4 months ago. I remembered."
He remembered a photo from four months ago.
My chest did something complicated.
"I'm fine," I replied. "But I could use some company later."
His response was immediate. "Name the time."