My parents treated me like a servant. 1 day before…

one last time. That grocery list was still on the kitchen counter downstairs. Three pages. Fourteen hours of work. Twenty-five guests. I didn’t touch it.

My sister texted at 3:30. Did you start shopping yet? Mom said you’re handling everything Monday. Trevor’s mom is so picky about food, lol.

I read it. Didn’t reply.

At 4:45, I called an Uber. My father continue reading …