Chapter 7: Price Tags and Fights

Two in the morning.

I heard the front door lock click. Natalie’s mom slipped out of bed. I was a light sleeper and woke up groggily, just in time to hear a man’s angry voice from the hallway:

“All you girls ever do is nickel and dime me. What am I, an ATM? Isn’t five bucks enough for lunch?”

“Natalie loves meat. These days, a single meat dish is three or four bucks. Sometimes she needs school supplies, too. Five just isn’t enough.”

“If she spends money like this, she might as well drop out and get a job early.”

The house went dead silent. My heart hammered in my chest.

Get a job early…Did he really just say that?

I couldn’t believe a dad could be so cruel.

“Honey, three years ago you asked me to quit my job and have a second kid, promising $800 a month for expenses. Then two years ago, you cut it to $600. This year, it’s only $400. Just make it $600, and I’ll cover the extra lunch money.”

With a crash, like a vase breaking, Natalie’s dad exploded: “All you girls ever do is ask for money! You can’t even give me a son. Why should I spend $600 on you? I could raise a chicken for that and it would lay eggs!”

Silence, so thick it hurt to breathe.

I thought for sure Natalie’s mom would talk about divorce.

But she said nothing—just came back to bed, defeated.

I shut my eyes, pretending to sleep. She tucked me in and sat beside me, quietly crying.

At that moment, I understood why Natalie wanted to escape so badly.

Her sobs were muffled, like she’d learned to keep her pain quiet. The walls in the little house were thin—pain seeped right through them, just like hope did.