Dr. Chen was quiet for a moment.
“What do you want to do?”
“I want them out of my house.”
“Then that’s your answer.”
I called in sick to work and spent the morning preparing. I researched tenant laws, though as guests rather than renters, my family had fewer protections. I called a locksmith to schedule new locks. I even looked up moving companies because, whatever happened next, I wanted to be ready.
At seven a.m., I knocked on Dad’s door.
He answered in his bathrobe, annoyed. “We need to talk,” I said.
“About what?”
“About you moving out today.”
His face went through several expressions before settling on disbelief.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m giving you twenty-four hours to find alternative housing.”
“Laura, you’re being ridiculous. We’re family.”
“Family doesn’t treat each other like ATMs.”
Mom appeared in the hallway, looking appropriately distressed.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m asking everyone to move out by tomorrow evening.”
“This is about the wedding money, isn’t it?” Madison’s voice joined from her doorway. “You’re throwing us out because you don’t want to help your own sister.”
“I’m asking you to leave because for three years you’ve lived in my house without contributing to expenses while treating me like I exist to serve your needs. The wedding demand was just the final straw.”
“Where are we supposed to go?” Mom demanded.
“That’s not my concern anymore. You’re all adults. Figure it out.”
“You can’t just kick us out,” Madison shrieked. “We have rights.”
As a lawyer, I knew exactly what rights they had as long-term guests.
“Actually, I can. And I am.”
Dad stepped forward, his face red.
“If you do this, there’s no coming back. You’ll have chosen money over family.”
“No,” I said calmly. “You chose money over family when you moved in here and decided my income belonged to all of you.”
“This is insane,” Madison said, her voice climbing toward hysteria. “You can’t just destroy our family over money.”
“I’m not destroying anything. I’m protecting myself from people who’ve spent three years taking advantage of my generosity.”
“Generosity?” Dad scoffed. “We’re your parents. We raised you, fed you, put a roof over your head for eighteen years.”
“And I’ve thanked you by providing housing, food, and financial support for three years. That debt is paid.”
Mom tried a different approach, her voice softening.
“Sweetheart, you’re upset about the wedding. We understand. Maybe we can find a compromise.”
“This isn’t about the wedding. It’s about respect. It’s about boundaries. It’s about basic fairness.”
I kept my voice level, professional.
“For three years, I’ve supported three adults financially while you’ve treated me like I don’t matter in my own home.”
“That’s not true,” Mom protested.
“Isn’t it? When’s the last time any of you asked how I’m doing? When’s the last time you acknowledged that I work sixty hours a week to pay for all of us? When’s the last time you treated this like my house instead of a communal property you’re entitled to?”
Silence.
“You have twenty-four hours,” I repeated. “I’ll change the locks tomorrow evening.”
“And if we don’t go?” Dad’s voice was challenging.
“Then I’ll call the police and have you removed for trespassing.”
Madison started crying. Real tears this time.
“Laura, please. I’m getting married. This is supposed to be the happiest time of my life.”
For a moment, I felt the old familiar tug of guilt, the urge to comfort her, to fix her problems, to be the good sister who put everyone else first.
Then I remembered Dr. Chen’s words.