“It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Still, nothing changed. That became the pattern. My father recognized the unfairness. My mother explained it away. I absorbed it.

After my father died unexpectedly when I was twenty-six, Uncle Richard became trustee of the family’s shared business interests. My father’s portion of the commercial properties supported several beneficiaries, including my mother, Kendra, and me.

Richard offered me a monthly distribution. I refused.

“I have a job,” I told him. “Keep my share invested.”