Then I sat silently for several minutes.
What if Dad couldn’t afford his insulin?
What if canceling the payment caused a problem with his treatment?
I couldn’t ignore that possibility.
So I called the pharmacy again.
I asked whether they could
notify me if the balance went unpaid instead of automatically charging my account.
They agreed.
That way, I could still make sure Dad wasn’t left without essential medication.
But I wouldn’t continue quietly paying expenses while everyone assumed the money appeared by magic.
I wasn’t trying to punish my family.
I was setting boundaries.
For the first time, I was choosing not to make myself invisible.
That afternoon, Camille arrived at my apartment without warning.
She knocked repeatedly until I opened the door.
She was wearing sunglasses and sweatpants, with her hair pulled into a messy bun.
She marched inside.
“Are you satisfied now?”
