They Spent $100K on My Brother but Jailed Me for $5K

After a while, my grades tanked.

I begged them, practically on my knees.

"I'm still a student—how can I spend all my time taking care of a kid? If this keeps up, what about my future? I still have to take the college entrance exam!"

Mom just looked at me.

"Alex, I knew a long time ago you're not cut out for studying. If you really wanted to learn, you could learn in any environment. It's fine. When you're an adult, Mom will ask relatives to find you a good match. Your priority right now is taking care of your little brother."

Under those conditions, I still managed to get into a four-year university, working part-time to put myself through.

I never expected that because of them, I'd end up back in this dump working as a server again.

My stomach churned, but I kept my face blank. "Thank you, Aunt Patricia."

With a criminal record, finding work was hard. Rent cost money. I had to take every chance to save up and get out of this place.

The next day, the owner looked me over like I was dirt.

"If we weren't short-handed, I wouldn't hire someone with no experience. Two hundred a day. You stay until cleanup's done. Take it or leave it."

They called it serving, but really I did everything.

Taking orders, running food, helping in the kitchen, scrubbing toilets—by closing I hadn't even had a sip of water.

There was no room for me at home. Every night I lay on the narrow couch, muscles aching so bad I couldn't sleep.

My only hope was the apartment I'd found online. The landlord agreed—once my paycheck hit, I'd sign the lease.

But on the fifteenth, I waited until midnight. No deposit notification.

I called the owner, furious. She tore into me.

"Are you insane? Didn't your Aunt Patricia tell me to transfer your wages straight to your mom? You two teaming up to scam me? I'll call the cops!"

My blood went cold. I stormed home and shoved the door open.

Mom was putting a new cashmere coat on Ryan. She froze when she saw me.

"It's the middle of the night—what are you doing?"

I steadied my breathing. "Where's my paycheck?"

She exchanged a look with Dad, her tone matter-of-fact.

"Getting your brother into classes and pulling strings—your dad and I borrowed a lot. We have monthly payments. How else would we afford it? We're family. Don't be petty. Call it rent."

Dad snorted. "We raised you this big and never touched a cent of yours. You've got nerve making a fuss. Taking your paycheck is only right."

I looked at Ryan, barely hiding his smirk.

Head to toe in new clothes—Gucci shoes, Burberry coat—his pampered face round and smug.

And me? I hadn't dared replace clothes I'd worn for ten years. Hair dry and brittle, nothing but skin and bones. A walking corpse.

While I cleaned up vomit and filth for a few hundred dollars, their precious son blew money in luxury stores like it was nothing.

I stared at them coldly.

"You know the last step of the civil service exam is a background check, right?"

Mom and Dad's faces changed instantly. Ryan's eyes flickered.