Cheryl shot me a withering look. “Don’t even start, Jenna. We don’t have the space. You should be thankful I’m giving you a roof over your head.”
Thankful? Every meal was a meager plate of leftovers that I was expected to heat up myself in the microwave! Whenever we visited the mall, it was a lecture about how “money doesn’t grow on trees,” yet somehow Maddie always managed to stroll away with new shoes or a glistening piece of jewelry.
One afternoon, as I sat in the attic doing my homework, Cheryl’s voice floated up from downstairs.
“I’m telling you, Eric, the money’s bailing us all out. The girl doesn’t even need half of it. She’s just sitting on it.”
