My Brother Said I Was Family But He Never Gave Me a Home Chapter 01
After my birth brother brought me back home, my life didn’t turn into one of those abuse stories you see in novels, where the real daughter gets mistreated.
Every large wire transfer, every Porsche, every Rolex he gave to the adoptive sister, he would casually hand me a copy too.
Everyone said he treated us equally. But I knew the truth.
He carefully chose everything for Sophia Scott, while I was just the afterthought.
I was that much of an afterthought, four years after moving in, I still didn’t have legal residency for in-state tuition.
Just because Sophia wanted to be the only one he spoiled.
After the SATs, I was still running around trying to figure out how to establish legal residency for college. That was when I saw the post on my adopted sister’s social media.
[Does growing up mean no longer depending on your brother?]
The picture showed a screenshot of Christopher replying that it would mean he was useless, along with a deed to a condo in a gated community under Sophia’s name.
I zoomed in on that property deed and stared at it over and over.
My mind went back to two weeks ago when my brother said the mortgage pre-approval had fallen through, and my residency for school would have to wait.
Just as my eyes started to sting, he called.
“Sophia’s worried she won’t have her own place when she turns eighteen, so I bought her a condo. It gives her peace of mind, and you’ll always have a home to come back to.”
“We’ve used up the mortgage pre-approval for the year. Next year, I promise I’ll make sure you have a real home to call your own.”
But he didn’t know I no longer needed his home.
My adoptive parents had figured out a way to get a condo in Kingsbridge City and had already registered my legal residency there.
The home he couldn’t give me?
I’d had it all along, since more than a decade ago.
—
The call didn’t end.
My phone screen was still on that nine-post grid of gifts.
Wire transfers, luxury cars, limited edition designer clothes that hadn’t even hit the market, a property deed, and two first-class tickets to Paris with a stay at the Ritz.
Everything looked similar to what he gave me.
But the girl in those photos was smiling much brighter than I ever did.
On the phone, Christopher nervously explained himself, as if afraid I might get the wrong idea.
“This was something I promised her before you came back. She’s always loved these things.”
“What’s wrong? You don’t like it? I’ll get you something else.”
That line felt painfully familiar.
The first time we ate together, he noticed immediately which dishes I hadn’t touched.
He said if I didn’t like them, he’d order something different next time.
When SATs ended, he showed up with flowers for both Sophia and me. He gave her the red roses she loved.
He gave me sunflowers, which trigger my hay fever.
He said he was sorry, that he didn’t know what I liked, that he’d do better next time.
He’d said those words so many times over the years.
I’d gone from feeling upset to completely numb.
While I stayed silent, another wire transfer came through from him.
[Buy whatever you like.]
I should have felt lucky.
He wasn’t like the brothers in those novels, always playing favorites, always choosing sides.
He never called me dramatic or difficult, and he always tried to meet my needs.
But I couldn’t shake this strange sense of helplessness.
Now I finally understood where that feeling came from.
He had never tried to get to know me the way he knew Sophia.
He never cared what I actually liked.
Every gift I got was always just whatever he had picked up after shopping for her.
When I still didn’t respond, he started talking about the residency issue.
“Don’t worry. Even if the mortgage pre-approval falls through, I’ll figure out a way to get you into school. Worst case, I can try to use a relative’s address, though that might not work for legal residency.”
I suddenly felt exhausted and cut him off.
“I want to go back home.”
