My New Car Was Gone One Morning—and My Parents Casually Told Me They’d Given the Keys to My Sister

years. When does it stop being everyone else’s responsibility to bail you out?”

“Fuck you, Claire.”

She turned and walked away. A few seconds later, Mom’s car pulled up—she’d driven Brittany over—and they sped off without another word.

I went downstairs to check on my car. It was there, looking fine on the outside, but the inside was a mess: fast food continue reading …