3: 3
The next morning I woke to an empty house.
Even Amelia's pets were gone.
The power was out.
My phone buzzed with an extreme weather alert—a red-level heat warning for today.
I called. No one picked up.
I dropped a message in the family group chat, and it sank without a trace.
I opened the door to get some air, and the neighbor woman happened to be stepping out at the same time.
She looked at me, surprised. "Why are you home alone? You didn't go with your parents to get out of the heat?"
That was how I found out my parents had worried the house AC wouldn't be enough and booked a fancy hotel in the city.
First thing that morning they'd loaded up Amelia and the pets and swept out in a whole procession.
Something turned bitter in my chest, and still I tried to comfort myself.
At least the house had AC. They hadn't locked the rooms that had it.
I asked the neighbor woman, "Do you know when the power's coming back?"
She looked even more puzzled.
"The complex hasn't lost power. My place is fine."
I went back inside and called the power company.
The operator's voice was flat and rehearsed. "Hello. Your household power was disconnected at the account holder's own request."
"The account holder said they'd be away for a while and no one would be home."
No one.
So it turned out I wasn't a person.
I gripped the phone, tears splashing onto the scalding screen.
I started packing. I borrowed a little money from a classmate I was close with, planning to go find the cheapest little motel and settle in.
That was when my mother called.
"Get over to the Hilton and find us."
The AC in the hotel lobby was cranked up so high it hurt.
The luxury suite they'd booked was almost too comfortable to be real.
But there were three bedrooms—one for my parents, one for Amelia, and one for Amelia's ten pets.
I stood there frozen, and my mother pointed at a small door in the corner.
"You'll sleep in there the next couple of days. And don't forget to look after your sister's pets."
I pushed the door open, and a scorching wave of heat rushed out at me.
It was the equipment closet, with several huge AC condenser units running side by side inside.
I didn't hesitate. I turned and walked out.
My mother's voice trailed after me, unbothered.
"You really don't know how to enjoy a good thing. We put you up in a hotel this nice and you won't even take it."
My eyes stung and my throat went tight.
Right. As if I hadn't enjoyed so much already.
The shopping bags left over when Amelia bought designer clothes, the eraser thrown in when she bought imported stationery, the occasional leftover segment of durian.
Those were the good things I got to enjoy.
Because of them, every time I applied for financial aid, the counselor turned me down.
All I could do was study like my life depended on it, staying up all night to win the biggest scholarship there was.
They could have just admitted they didn't treat me well.
But every time, it turned into me being ungrateful.
I got to the hotel lobby, and a staff member stopped me, saying my credit card was over its limit.
I stared blankly at the bill in his hand.
In the payer's signature line was my name.
I went straight to the nearest bank with my ID.
At some point three credit cards had been opened under my name.
And every one of them had been maxed out, down to the last cent.
I rushed back to the hotel and found my parents.
I rushed back to the hotel to find my parents.
They were sitting with Amelia, doing a jigsaw puzzle.
When I demanded an explanation, my father spoke as if it were nothing. "You'll graduate and start working soon. It's not like you can't pay off a few cards."
"It's your own fault for being so thoughtless—you never once thought to buy your sister a gift, so we had to do it for you."
Money. Where was I supposed to get money?
I was shaking with rage, tears breaking loose again.
But my mother called after me once more.
"Oh, right. Your birthday's in a couple of days."
