Mum, Dad, get the spare room ready. Im coming home. With my son.
Emma didnt askdidnt even announce it. She spoke in a tone that left no room for argument. Mum froze, staring at her phone, while Dad set his fork down. Dinner was forgotten.
Sophie, the eldest sister, felt a familiar chill crawl down her spine. She knew this wouldnt be pleasantEmma hadnt spoken to them in three years. But she never expected *this* as the opening line.
No, Dad cut in, sharp and final.Theres no space. You made your choices, now you deal with them.
Oh, come off it! Like theres *nowhere* to put us! Sophie can clear outshes not even married, its easier for her. Or shove a sofa in the kitchen for her. What, are you *that* heartless?
Sophies breath hitched. She was used to Emmas theatrics, but it never got easier.
Despite Dads refusal, Sophies mind was already racingshed have to find somewhere else to live. It was always like this: Emma bulldozed through, convinced the world owed her, and somehow always got what she wanted. Sophie well, she was quiet, unassuming, the one who stepped back to avoid the storm.
And Emma *knew* that.
Emma, love we cant, Mum said softly.Were still paying off your uni loans. Sophie helps with the billsshe doesnt have to, but she does. We cant take on *you* and a baby now.
So you dont care what happens to your own daughter and grandson?! Emma shrieked.Are you even *human*?!
Enough. I wont talk to you like this, Dad snapped, ending the call.
Mum tutted*too harsh*, she murmuredbut her face said she agreed. The evening passed in thick, uneasy silence.
Sophie remembered how it all started. In their family, it was always the same: Emma got what she wanted, right then, or hell would break loose.
…Sophie was six years older. Yes, they were both lovedbut Emma was coddled just a little more. First, because their parents thought theyd *finally* figured out parenting. Second, because when Sophie was little, money was tight. Things improved, but Sophie stayed frugalnever asking for much, never wanting to burden them.
Emma, though? She made up for it *twice over*.
Her first proper tantrum came at ten. She wanted a dognot just any dog, a *golden retriever*. Big, high-maintenance. Their parents knew *theyd* end up doing the work. And in a two-bed flat? Madness. But Emma wouldnt hear it.
If you dont get me one, Ill *do* something! she threatened.
That shook themMum especially. So after some resistance, they caved. And who ended up walking the dog? Sophie and Mum. Emma was always *too busy*.
The same happened with summer camp. Her mate Lucy was going to a *Harry Potter*-themed onefour days, £600.
*Lucys* going, why cant I?! If you dont send me, Ill *run* there myself! Emma crossed her arms.
Go on, then. Theyll send you back in disgrace, Dad said.
They paid anyway. Easier than the meltdown. But easy isnt always right.
At sixteen, Emma announced shed apply to uni in Londonwith Lucy.
Not rotting in *this* dump, she said.
Sophie almost laughed. Emma wasnt exactly studious. Scholarships? No chance. Even getting in would be a miracletop uni, fierce competition, a year to cram. Mission impossible.
But Sophie stopped laughing fast.
What, youll leave me *uneducated*?! You want me on the streets?! Emma pressed.Because I *will* be if you dont send me! And itll be *your* fault!
They werent made of stone. After months, they hired tutors. Took out loans. Dad aged five years in one; Mum lived on pills. Emma? Thriving.
She got in. Six months later, she bragged to Sophie.
Congratulate me! Ive moved in with my bloke. His parents are loadedproperty developers. We have sushi *every night*.
Sophie wasnt impressed. They hadnt sent her to London for *this*.
What about your degree?
Ugh, *typical*. I share good news, and you nag! Emma huffed.Im living like *royalty*. He might take me to meet his parents soon.
Months later, her tone changedjealous, desperate.
I dont know what to do she whined.He flirts with everyone but *me*. Buys me things, but its like Im his *pet*. Fed, petted, ignored. He texts girls *right in front of me*.
Dump him, Sophie said flatly.
And lose *that*? He says its just funthat *Im* the one he loves. And his familys loadedI might *never* work. No way Im leaving.
Sophie knew it was a farce. But arguing was pointless.
Then dont complain to me, she said.
Emma hung up. She never complained again.
Second year: she told them she was pregnant. They were *stunned*.
Love what about your degree? Mum asked.
Theyd just taken *more* loans for tuition. This wasnt good.
Dropping out. Not dragging a baby to lectures, Emma said.
Why would *she* care? Others did the work. Even Sophie helped, though she judged them for it.
Youre *wasting* your life! Dad snapped.We gave *everything* for you!
And I *used* it. Just not how you wanted. Click.
Three years of silence. Until she *needed* them.
In the end, Emma found another neck to land onGrandma Margaret, Dads mum. She took Emma in, even *defended* her.
*Tom*, how can you? Your own daughter, with a *baby*! Youve no heart!
I dont *know* that baby. When I tried, she shut me out. Now she wants Sophie *homeless*the one paying our loans! Is *that* fair?
But shes *blood*! Family first!
No, Mum. Family *helps* each other. Doesnt bully and blackmail.
Within weeks, Grandmas tune changed. The *golden* granddaughter ran her house, moaned about *wicked* parents who *abandoned* her.
Mum and Dad achedguilt, shame, Grandmas barbs. But for once, they *didnt* bend. And Sophie? She felt something new: *respect*. Finally, theyd stood firm. Finally, Emma hadnt won.
