Mum, Dad, get the spare room ready. Im coming home. With my son.
Emily didnt ask. She didnt even inform them. She spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. Her mother gaped at the phone. Her father set his fork down, his appetite gone.
Sophia, the eldest daughter, felt a familiar chill creep down her spine. She knew at once the conversation wouldnt be pleasanther sister hadnt spoken to them in three years. But she hadnt expected Emily to open with *this*.
“No,” their father said sharply. “Theres no room in the house. You made your choices. Deal with them yourself.”
“Oh, come off it! As if theres nowhere to put us! Sophia can clear outshes not married, its easier for her. Or stick her on the sofa in the kitchen. What, youd rather let your own daughter and grandson sleep on the street?”
Sophias breath caught. Shed grown up with Emilys antics, but that didnt make them any easier to bear.
Despite their fathers refusal, Sophia already braced herself to start flat-hunting. It was always like thisEmily acted like the world owed her, pushed until she got her way, and Sophia well, Sophia was quiet. Unassuming. She didnt fight. It was easier to give in.
And Emily knew it.
“Emily, love we cant,” their mother said gently. “Were still paying off your uni loans. And its not like were living with Sophia for funshe helps with the bills, even though she doesnt have to. We cant manage you *and* a baby on top of that.”
“So you dont care what happens to your daughter and grandson?” Emily shrieked. “Are you even human?”
“Emily. Lower your voice. I wont be spoken to like that,” their father snapped, ending the call.
Their mother tsked*was that really necessary?*but her face said she agreed. The evening passed in stiff silence.
Sophia remembered how it all began. In their family, it was always the sameEmily either got what she wanted, right then and there, or she made sure nobody else had peace.
Sophia was six years older. Their parents loved them both, but Emily was spoiled just a little more. Maybe because they thought theyd mastered parenting by then. Maybe because money had been tight when Sophia was small, and shed grown up frugalnever asking for much, never wanting to burden them.
Emily made up for lost time.
Her first proper tantrum came at ten. She wanted a puppynot just any puppy, but a golden retriever. A big dog. High-maintenance. Their parents knew full well whod end up walking and feeding it. And keeping a large dog in a two-bed flat was madness. But Emily wouldnt hear it.
“If you dont get me one, Ill *do* something!” she threatened.
That stopped them cold. They caved. Of course, it was Sophia and their mother who ended up looking after the dogEmily was always “too busy.”
Same story with the summer camp. Emilys friend Gemma was goinga themed one, “Hogwarts Weekend.” Four days. Six hundred quid.
“Gemmas going, why cant I? If you dont send me, Ill run away!” Emily pouted.
“Go on, then. Theyll send you right back in disgrace,” their father said.
They paid anyway. Easier than the tantrums. But the easy road was never the right one.
By sixth form, Emily announced she was moving to London for uniwith Gemma.
“Im not rotting in this backwater,” she said.
Sophia almost laughed. Emily was, to put it kindly, not the studious type. No chance of clearing admissions at a top uni with a years half-hearted revision.
But she wasnt laughing for long.
“Youd *leave* me uneducated? Want me to turn to the streets? Because I *will* if I dont get in! And itll be *your* fault!”
Their parents werent made of stone. Within months, they hired tutors. Took out loans. Their father aged five years in one; their mother lived off beta-blockers. Emily, meanwhile, bloomed.
She got in, of course. Six months later, she bragged to Sophia.
“Guess what? Moved out of hallsliving with my boyfriend now. His parents are loaded. Construction tycoons. We have sushi every nightcan you imagine?”
Sophia didnt react. Great, she had a boyfriendbut they hadnt sent her to London for *that*.
“What about your degree?”
“Ugh, *you*. I share good news, and you nag. I live like royalty now. Hes taking me to meet his parents next month.”
Two months later, her tone changedwhiny, desperate.
“He flirts with other girls right in front of me! Acts like Im some petfeed me, pat me, ignore me. He texts them *right there*.”
“Dump him, then,” Sophia said flatly.
“And lose a catch like that? He says its just fun. Says Im *special*. And his familys loadedI might never have to work. Im not leaving.”
Sophia knew it wouldnt last. But arguing was pointless.
“Then dont complain to me,” she said finally.
Emily hung up. She never complained again.
Second year, she told their parents she was pregnant. They were stunned.
“Lovewhat about your degree?” their mother asked weakly.
Theyd just taken another loan for her tuition.
“Who cares? Im dropping out. Not dragging a baby to lectures.”
Why would she worry? Others did the sweating. Even Sophia helped, though she judged them for it.
“Youre throwing your life away!” their father shouted. “We gave everything we had!”
“And I *used* itjust not how you wanted. He wont marry me? Fine. My life, my choices.”
Click. Three years of silence. No calls. No texts. As if theyd ceased to exist.
Until she needed something.
In the end, Emily found another suckertheir grandmother, Margaret. She took her in, sided with her.
“Vincent, how *could* you? Your own daughter, with your grandchild!”
“I dont *know* the child. When I tried, she shut me out. Now she wants Sophia *homeless*the one paying our loans! Is *that* fair?”
“But shes *family*!”
“No, Mum. Family means standing togethernot endless demands and blackmail.”
A month later, the complaints started. Emily ruled the house, moaned about her “cruel” parents.
It hurt them, of coursethe guilt, the judgment. But for once, they didnt bend. And Sophia? She felt something newrespect.
For the first time, theyd stood firm. Emily hadnt won.
