After I hit the jackpot for $2.5 million in the lottery, my parents demanded I split half with their cherished daughter…

That oversized check is a prop for photos, I explained, feeling a strange calm settle over me. It’s not the actual payment method. No lottery commission hands out real checks for millions of dollars like that.

Their expressions began to shift from confusion to uncertainty. The actual payment is being processed electronically. I continued.

What you just burned was a commemorative copy I received as a souvenir. It has no monetary value whatsoever. The color drained from my mother’s face.

My father, always quick to bluster when challenged, shook his head. You’re lying. You’re just saying that because we destroyed it.

In response, I pulled out my phone and opened my email, turning the screen toward them to show a message from the lottery commission confirming my electronic funds transfer was being processed. The money will be deposited directly into an account I’ve set up specifically for this purpose, I said calmly. There was never a real check to burn.

The silence that followed was deafening. My parents stood frozen, the reality of their failed manipulation sinking in. Finally, my mother spoke, her voice small and suddenly conciliatory.

Mackenzie, we were just trying to break into my apartment and destroy what you thought was my financial security. I finished for her. Yes, I can see that.

You’re blowing this out of proportion. My father attempted his authoritative tone returning. We’re your parents.

We were just trying to bring you to your senses by committing breaking and entering and attempted destruction of property. I shook my head in disbelief. Do you have any idea how unhinged that sounds? Just then the front door opened and Brooke walked in, carrying a takeout bag.

She stopped short when she saw me. Oh, you’re here. She looked nervously between me and our parents.

I was just bringing lunch for mom and dad while they talked to you while they trespassed in my apartment and tried to destroy what they thought was my lottery check. I corrected watching her eyes widen. I didn’t know they were going to do that.

She protested quickly. They just said they were going to wait for you to come home so we could all talk again. Whether she was telling the truth or not didn’t really matter anymore.

The fact that any of them thought it was acceptable to enter my home without permission spoke volumes. All of you need to leave now. My voice was steady, but there was no mistaking the finality in it.

Mackenzie, please. My mother began her tone shifting to pleading. We made a mistake.

We were just so worried about the family being torn apart over money. No, I countered. You were worried about losing access to money you believe you’re entitled to.

There’s a difference. After everything we’ve done for you, my father started. That’s exactly the problem, I interrupted.

You’ve convinced yourselves you’ve done so much for me when the reality is I’ve been largely on my own since I was a teenager. You’re not entitled to my lottery winnings and your actions today have shown me exactly who you are. I moved to the door and held it open.

Leave now or I call the police and report a breaking and entering. Your choice. They gathered their things in stunned silence.

As Brooke passed me at the door, she paused. This isn’t fair. You’re being cruel.

No, Brooke, I replied quietly. Cruel is expecting someone to sacrifice their financial security for your series of failed ventures. Cruel is supporting parents who would break into your sister’s apartment to destroy her property.

You’ve always been the favorite and you’ve used that to your advantage your entire life. That ends today. After they left, I immediately called a locksmith to change my locks and began researching security systems I could install.

I also called Rachel to update her on what had happened. They did what, she exclaimed. That’s insane.

Are you okay? Strangely, yes, I replied, surveying my apartment. I think this needed to happen. The illusion is gone now.

I see them clearly for who they are and it’s actually liberating. That night, I received a flurry of texts from extended family members, aunts, uncles, cousins, all expressing concern about the family rift and urging me to reconsider my harsh stance against my parents and sister. Clearly, my family had been busy spinning their version of events.

I didn’t bother responding. Instead, I focused on finishing my packing. I had already given notice at my apartment and found a short-term rental in a secure building across town…