"Are you trying to send your mother and me to an early grave?"
I reached for the tangle of wires.
"Dad, this thing is connected to the internet! He can watch the feed directly on his phone! This isn't theft prevention—it's surveillance!"
Mom's spit sprayed across my face as she shrieked back.
"Surveillance? What's there to surveil? What exactly are you hiding?"
"He's your brother! Your own brother! So what if he takes a look? Are you made of gold? Silver? What's so precious that your own family can't see?"
I stared at her, incredulous.
"Mom, this is about privacy! Whatever I wear at home, whatever I do—he sees all of it! This isn't just 'taking a look'—"
Alfred swiped at his tears.
"Fine! Forget it, sis. Since you don't trust me, I'm done with this renovation. I'll leave. Right now. I won't be an eyesore anymore."
Mom grabbed him, tears streaming down her face.
"Alfred! Don't you dare leave! Your sister doesn't know any better, but I'm on your side! If anyone tries to throw you out today, I'll die right here!"
She whipped toward me. "Darlene, apologize to your brother! Now! This instant!"
I clenched my jaw. "I did nothing wrong. I'm not apologizing."
Dad raised his hand to strike.
Aunt Diana rushed forward to block him. "Now, now, Piers—the girl's still upset. No hitting, no hitting..."
She turned to me, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Darlene, sweetie, you're in the wrong here. Your brother turned down big jobs at the construction site just to save you tens of thousands in labor costs."
"Do you have any idea how expensive workers are these days? That sledgehammer you swung? You didn't break a wall—you broke your brother's heart."
I jabbed a finger at the wreckage scattered across the floor.
"Save money? Smell this!" I gestured at the air. "We've barely cracked open the walls and the formaldehyde is already giving me a splitting headache!"
"You call this saving money? Cheap adhesive and no-brand particle board—that's what he used!"
"Where did the 'savings' actually go? Straight into some online gambling site, I bet!"
Aunt Theresa Pruitt cut in from the sidelines.
"Darlene, that's uncalled for. Sure, your brother played cards years ago, but that's ancient history. He quit ages ago!"
"Bringing that up now is just rubbing salt in his wounds."
"Besides, now that you're a government employee, your standards are too high for your poor relatives, is that it? The materials aren't good enough for you? Then pay for better ones yourself!"
"With the pittance you gave him, what did you expect? Rosewood?"
I exploded.
"I gave him two hundred thousand dollars!"
"This apartment is only eight hundred square feet! Two hundred thousand, and this is what it looks like? Not a single decent tile—just bare white walls and bargain-bin paint!"
"Where's the money, Alfred? I dare you to show me the receipts!"
Alfred's eyes darted away. His hand flew to his pocket, guarding it.
Mom jumped in immediately.
"So what if it was two hundred thousand? Your brother doesn't need money for labor? For food and water?"
"And he didn't even keep it all! He covered a lot of the costs out of his own pocket!"
"He said he was worried you'd run short, so he put in over twenty thousand of his own money. He hasn't even had the nerve to ask you to pay him back, and here you are—biting the hand that feeds you!"
Alfred fumbled in his pocket and produced a crumpled slip of paper, holding it out to Dad with trembling hands.
"Dad... this is the IOU from when I borrowed money from a friend to buy materials... I didn't want to show it because I didn't want to pressure Darlene..."
"But I swear I never took a cent from her..."
Dad snatched the paper, glanced at it, and flung it in my face.
"Look! Open your damn eyes and look! Your brother had to borrow from loan sharks just to finish your lousy apartment! Your conscience has been eaten by dogs!"
The slip fluttered to the ground. Twenty thousand borrowed. Interest rate through the roof. Borrower: Alfred Pruitt. Reason: "Urgent renovation expenses."
