My mother drained my entire college fund to pay for my sister’s eviction, but a grumpy stranger at my diner job handed me the keys to my future.
“I already signed the withdrawal forms, Vesper,” my mother, Maura, said, not even looking up from her smartphone screen. “The tax penalty fee is terribly high, but Elowen’s landlord wants them out by Friday.”
I stood frozen in our cramped kitchen, my acceptance letter to the local community college suddenly feeling like a worthless piece of paper. The account she was talking about was a dedicated education fund my late father had set up for me before he passed away.
“That was my money,” I whispered, my voice trembling as the reality of her words crashed over me. “It was specifically meant for my nursing school tuition.”
“Your sister has three babies who are about to be homeless!” Maura finally snapped, slamming her phone down on the table. “You are eighteen years old. You can easily take out private student loans and pay them back later.”
