After Becoming A Billionaire, My Family Wants Me To Die

"Where am I supposed to stay?" I asked.

Melanie pulled out two hundred dollars and tossed it on the table carelessly as if she were giving money to a beggar. "Here, take this. Find a motel or rent a place. It's up to you."

I forced a bitter smile. "What about James? Does he feel the same way?"

Just then, my brother, James Kessler, emerged from the bathroom. Without hesitation, he said, "Nina, you're my sister. Of course, I'm on your side. If you want to stay here, I'll clear the room for you."

It seemed James still cared about me. I nodded with relief. "Alright, I'll stay for a while."

But as soon as I said that, James' expression froze. He stood there, looking at me, but made no move to clean the room. I stared back, puzzled.

At this time, Greta walked up to me, her voice sharp. "Janina, have you lost your mind in prison? How can you be so inconsiderate? Can't you see how cramped the house is? Even if we clear out the room, it should be for the baby. You're an adult now. How can you shamelessly insist on staying here? Have some sense!"

I felt sorrowful and replied hoarsely, "Greta, this is my home. Isn't it normal for me to stay for a few days?"

"Your home? This house is under James' name now. He's married, and you're thirty years old. How can you still want to live with your brother?" Her disdain was no longer hidden, her eyes filled with contempt.

I looked at James. He pressed his lips together, looking everywhere but at me.

I turned to my mother, but she just stared back, her expression dark, offering no support.

My father puffed away on his cigarette, acting as if none of this concerned him.

There I stood, awkward and helpless, realizing their rush to property transfer wasn't just to avoid a potential dispute. They wanted to use it as an excuse to kick me out. My heart ached with a thousand tiny stings.

Looking at my family, I asked incredulously, "Did I do something wrong? Why have you all changed so suddenly?"

For the first time, I felt like an outsider in my own home. Before I went to prison, everyone treated me well. Why had everything changed the moment I was released?

Without hesitation, Greta responded, "Janina, before, you could make money and support the family, so we all got along. But now, you're just an ex-con. Finding a decent job or a husband will be nearly impossible. In your situation, what can you do but leech off us? Why should we still treat you well?"

My heart sank, and I asked painfully, "So, because I'm no longer useful and might be a burden, you don't care about me anymore?"

"Nina, it's not our fault," Melanie looked at me and finally said, "Another mouth to feed isn't something we can afford. You're better off finding a place to rent and taking care of yourself instead of being a burden to us."

"I'm a burden?"