Donna tries to laugh it off.
“You have a good salary now,” she says. “It’s not like before.”
Rick adds, “And after everything we did for you, you can’t say no.”
Brooke crosses her arms. “Plus, you owe me,” she says, like your existence was a debt.
You exhale through your nose, almost amused by how they all say the same lines, just in different voices.
“No,” you say.
Just one word.
But it lands like a door slamming.
Donna’s eyes flash.
“Excuse me?” she snaps, the sweetness evaporating.
You keep your posture relaxed, because you learned the secret: when you stay calm, their anger looks even uglier.
“I said no,” you repeat. “I’m not giving Brooke thirty thousand dollars. Not now. Not ever.”
Brooke’s face twists.
“You’re kidding,” she says, voice rising. “You’re seriously still mad about that? It was years ago.”
Donna steps in, louder. “How selfish can you be?” she barks. “We raised you!”
Rick’s jaw tightens.
“You walk out once and think you’re better than us,” he growls.
He leans in, voice low, threatening the way he used to when he wanted you to fold.
“Remember who you are.”
You look him dead in the eye.
“I do,” you say quietly. “That’s why I’m saying no.”
For a second, none of them know what to do with you.
Because the old Natalie would have apologized, would have explained, would have tried to make them understand.
This Natalie doesn’t negotiate her boundaries like a sale at the grocery store.
You don’t owe them a debate. You owe yourself peace.
Donna tries a new angle, the one that always worked when you were young.
Her voice cracks slightly, and she presses a hand to her chest.
“After all the stress you’ve caused me,” she says, “you can’t even do this one thing?”
Brooke adds quickly, “Mom’s blood pressure has been bad.”
You feel the old guilt twitch awake like a reflex, but you don’t feed it.
You’ve seen this trick before: turn your boundary into their injury.
You keep your voice soft and unmoved.
“If your health is fragile, maybe stop yelling at people in public,” you say.
Brooke gasps like you slapped her.
Donna’s eyes go wide with outrage.
Rick steps forward like he might grab your arm, but then he notices something that makes him stop.
People are watching.
Two employees near the entrance glance over, their expressions polite but alert.
A security guard inside the lobby shifts his stance, attention flicking between you and Rick.
And suddenly your parents’ confidence deflates, because bullies hate witnesses more than they hate losing.
Donna lowers her voice, but her words are sharper now.
“Fine,” she hisses. “If you won’t help your sister, at least help us.”
She tilts her chin toward the building. “Get Rick an interview. Your father deserves a real job, not… not what he has.”
You almost laugh again.
Your father hasn’t asked you how you are in years, but now he wants your network.
This isn’t family. It’s extraction.
“I don’t refer people I can’t vouch for,” you say calmly.
Rick’s face reddens. “So you’re calling me incompetent?” he snaps.
You shrug slightly. “I’m saying you’re not my responsibility,” you reply.
Brooke’s voice goes icy.
“Wow,” she says. “So you’re just going to abandon us?”
Donna nods fiercely. “Exactly,” she spits. “You’re cold. You always were.”
Your chest tightens, not because they’re right, but because it still hurts that they can say these things so easily.
You blink slowly, grounding yourself in the present: the glass building behind you, the badge on your chest, the life you built with ramen and grit and late-night studying.
You don’t owe them proof.
But you do owe yourself the truth.
“No,” you say, steady. “I’m not cold.”
You point lightly at your chest, at the badge.
“I’m grown.”
The revolving doors whoosh open behind you, and a familiar voice calls your name.
“Natalie!”
You turn and see your team lead, Jasmine, walking toward you with a coffee in one hand and a laptop bag in the other.
She pauses when she notices your family, reading the tension instantly.
“You okay?” Jasmine asks, eyes kind but sharp.
You nod. “Yeah,” you say. “Just… an old situation.”
Jasmine’s gaze flicks to Donna and Rick, then back to you. “Want me to grab security?” she asks quietly.
Donna stiffens, offended.
