2: 2
Three days later, the clan's big memorial ceremony.
The relatives crowded around the banquet table, passing bottles and clinking glasses.
My father sat dead center at the head table, wine cup in hand, taking a toast from every man in the family.
"Uncles, cousins, all of you. Today, with the blessing of our ancestors, I have some good news to announce. I've already found Paul a place downtown for his wedding home. Seventeen hundred square feet, a full-floor apartment."
One of my uncles leaned in, cup in hand, curious.
"Carter, a full-floor place downtown, the down payment alone has to be several hundred thousand. Where'd you get that kind of money?"
My father waved it off like it was nothing.
"Mortgaged that little condo in Caroline's name for six hundred thousand, put it together with the family savings, and made up the down payment."
I was standing there with the teapot, pouring for the elders.
That little condo was mine, bought with every dollar I'd earned writing web novels after work, ever since my school days.
The one place in the world that was completely mine.
"What gives you the right to touch my apartment?"
My voice shook as I stared at the man they called my father.
The noisy ancestral hall went silent in an instant.
His face darkened at once.
"Where are your manners! Since when does a child cut in when her elders are talking?"
"That's my apartment! My name is on the deed! How could you mortgage it behind my back?"
Seeing this, my mother grabbed my arm at once and dragged me toward a corner.
The moment we reached an empty spot behind a pillar, she dropped to her knees in front of me with a thud.
"Caroline, save your brother! Without that place, the girl's family is calling off the wedding tomorrow! You're the only one in this family who's made something of herself. You can't just watch the Head line die out!"
"Mom, you're trading my whole life for his apartment. Where am I supposed to live after that?"
She wailed and slapped at her own thighs.
"Once your brother's married, he'll take care of you! You think a Head man would ever let you starve?"
At some point Paul had come over too.
He stood off to the side and couldn't bring himself to meet my eyes.
"Sis, just count it as a loan from you. Once I strike it rich, I'll pay you back with interest, every cent."
My eyes went red and I laughed, cold.
"A loan? Pay me back with what? You don't even have a real job!"
I shoved my mother's clutching hands off me, hard.
"Hand over the deed and the mortgage contract. I'm going to the bank right now to cancel it!"
My father came strolling over, cup still in hand.
He pulled a sheet of paper out of his briefcase and slapped it hard across my face.
It was a single page from my household record.
"Cancel it? Cancel it with what? Your mother took the original deed and a copy of your ID and went to your uncle in private lending. Your mother signed your name for you. The six hundred thousand was wired to Paul's account long ago."
My head went blank with a roar, every drop of blood in me rushing up.
"This is fraud. This is a crime!"
My father let out a contemptuous snort.
"Go ahead and sue. We gave birth to you, so what's yours is ours!"
He jabbed a finger hard into my shoulder.
"You dare call the cops on your own mother, and you're nothing but a heartless animal who'll answer to heaven for it."
