”
Chloe sank onto my couch, crying harder now. “So what am I supposed to do? Sell the car?”
“That would be a start.”
“Daniel, I need that car—”
“No, you don’t. You want it. There’s a difference. But here’s the thing, Chloe: your wants are not my responsibility. They never were. I’m not your parent. I’m not your ATM. I’m your brother, and I’ve been subsidizing continue reading …
