After winning 200 million dollars in the lottery, I quit my job and returned to my hometown.

As I arrived at the station in my hometown, I called my dad to pick me up. He asked me why I came back.

Jokingly, I said I was laid off and came back to live off the family.

It was pouring rain, and I waited until evening, but he never showed up.

Braving the storm, I made my way home. As I reached the door, I heard Marcela Human, my sister-in-law, complaining, “Was it so urgent? We had to transfer the title in this downpour, and now look how drenched I am.”

Mom said, “It’s all for your sake. Alina lost her job. Do you want to give the house back to her?”

Marcela sneered, “If she’s back, let her rent a place. I’m not used to living with my sister-in-law.”

1

I stood at the door, unsure if it was the cold rain soaking me to the bone, or the chill in my heart.

My whole body trembled uncontrollably.

Droplets rolled down my cheeks to the edge of my lips, and I licked them.

It was salty.

Today's rain tasted salty.

I stood there for a long time before finally knocking on the door. In this house, Mom favored my brother, and Dad was always silent, but my brother, Colton Weinberg, had always loved me.

He wouldn’t drive me out, would he?

It was my mother who answered the door.

A strained smile creased her face.

“Alina, you're back.”

I nodded, entered, and changed my soaked shoes, hearing her explain, “The rain was too heavy. Your dad couldn't get out. He was planning to wait until it eased up before picking you up.”

“How did you get here? By taxi?”

“Yeah.”

As I swapped shoes, I noticed a few pairs lying around, soaking wet. I pretended to be clueless and asked her, "Did you go out?"

Mom frowned at the sight of the wet shoes but found an excuse.

“We were at Marcela's parents' place before the rain. Just got back and got all wet.”

I said "oh" lightly and walked towards my room with my suitcase.

When I opened the door, I found it filled with clutter.

I stood at the door and looked at my mother. "Mom, what's going on?"

My mother twitched her lips, looking embarrassed.

“The house is crowded with stuff, and you don't stay often, so we used it for storage.”

“What about my things?”

Mom quickly opened the balcony door and pointed. “Over there, Marcela packed them up for you.”

I glanced at the bags on the balcony, crammed with a mess of my belongings.

“Whose idea was this?

“This house was bought with my money. Am I not even entitled to a room?”

Mom hung her head, feigning helplessness, while Marcela shouted arrogantly from outside, “Alina Weinberg, so what if you bought the house? Are you kicking me out now?"

“You’re all family, but I'm the outsider.” I said.

Tired of arguing, I pushed open the study door. My brother, Colton, was inside playing a game.

“Colton, they turned my room into a storage closet. Where am I supposed to stay?”

He took off his headset and looked at me. “Give me a minute, I’m almost done.”

I stood there, watching. After finishing his game, he walked over.

“Don't be mad. It’s Mom and Marcela. They’re always saying there’s too much stuff and no place to put it, so they used your room.

“How about this? Marcela and I will stay at a hotel for a few days. You can use our room.”

As he spoke, he asked, “How long are you staying this time?”

"You know, Boston is so far away. Why don't you just stay here and find a job nearby? It's better for the family to look after each other."

I had heard this countless times.

In the past, I would always say that my major didn’t match the local job market, and even if I found a job here, the salary wouldn’t be great, so I would return to Boston.

But this time, I agreed without hesitation, “I feel the same way. I've been drifting for years and it's time to settle down.

“I plan to stay for good, so having you and Marcela stay at a hotel is not practical. Let Mom and them clear out the room. I'll move in there.”

2

Colton was stunned for a moment.

Then he said, “Sure. I will have them clear it out right away.”

No sooner had he spoken than Marcela started to complain, “Clear it out to where? This house is so small, there’s barely any room to move!”

Everyone stood there, nobody making a move.

After a long stalemate, Colton finally said, “If you won’t clear it, I will.”

He started towards the room, but Mom grabbed his arm. “Do you even know how to clear it? Just leave it to me.”

I looked at my mother, and I didn't dwell on living in my previous room.

“If you don’t want to clear it, that's fine. The condo I bought isn’t being used, is it? Just give me the key, and I’ll move there.”

I held out my hand to Mom, but she didn't respond.

I glanced at her, then at Colton.

“What does this mean?”

Colton looked awkward. “Alina, don’t be upset. Marcela’s brother is living in that condo now. It wouldn’t be convenient for you to stay there.”

“Oh.

“Isn’t there another one? The one at Westwood Gardens. Give me the key.”

No one moved, and the room fell silent. After a long pause, Dad, who had remained quiet until now, finally spoke.

“Alina, are you back just to ask for houses? Or to show off that you bought several of them?”

I almost laughed out of frustration.

“Dad, is that what you think of me?

“I’ve been asking where I can stay. You didn’t say a word. When I try to make my own arrangements, you speak up to accuse me of showing off.

“I’ve never seen anyone brag about owning three homes and still having nowhere to live!”

Their faces soured, but no one spoke.

I knew they wanted to drive me away, considering me a burden now that I was “unemployed.”

I had no intention of squeezing into this house with them, but if they wanted to be heartless, I wouldn’t hold back either.

If they wanted me gone, then let's do it thoroughly.

“Is your silence an answer? You want me to leave, right?”

My parents and Colton kept quiet. Marcela shot me a disdainful look. “Whoever heard of a sister-in-law in her thirties, unmarried, and living with her brother and his wife? It's one thing to stay occasionally, but now that you’re unemployed, you plan to stay indefinitely? Don’t you have any self-respect?”

I let out a dry laugh, my tone sharp.

“It's not for you to say. I’m talking to my parents and my brother.”

Marcela’s face twisted with anger, and Colton glowered at me, his tone equally sharp.

“Alina, I can tolerate you, but Marcela has no obligation to. Show her some respect when you speak.”

I looked at him and smiled, "I have no problem with her. It's because you don't say anything.

“Colton, I bought those three houses, one for you to live with your wife after you got married, another for Marcela's brother. You, the main beneficiary, act so righteous here.

"If you’ve got the guts, give me back all three houses and go live elsewhere with your wife and our parents.”