Family First? Nah. Revenge First. Welcome to My Heatwave Trap! Chapter 01

Family First? Nah. Revenge First. Welcome to My Heatwave Trap! Chapter 01

The day after my parents moved in with my brother’s family, the deadly heatwave hit.

That same night, Ryan and Brooke claimed my master bedroom, complaining it was too hot everywhere else.

Tyler, my spoiled nephew, took over the guest room I had carefully designed.

Mom and Dad camped out in the living room with my box fan and kicked me out to the stifling balcony.

More and more people were dying outside from the heat.

But Brooke insisted there wasn’t enough food and forced me to go grocery shopping.

I was driven out of the house and died of heatstroke outside.

When I opened my eyes again, Mom was asking me to let my brother’s family stay in my new apartment for a while.

I smiled and agreed without hesitation.

This time, I would sit inside with the AC blasting, eating a sizzling steak, and watch them walk straight into hell.

…

“Today’s high is 108 degrees Fahrenheit. Another week of extreme heat is expected. Stay indoors and limit outdoor activity.”

I shivered as the TV anchor delivered the warning.

That bone-deep thirst came rushing back. I chugged glass after glass of ice water until my stomach ached, but that parched, heart-pounding thirst finally began to fade.

The phone rang. I tapped the screen to answer.

Mom’s sobbing voice poured out immediately.

“Emily, your brother got scammed in a business deal. He owes a ton of money, and the collectors are at our door threatening to break his legs!”

“I’m so scared, honey. Your dad and I are too old to bury our own son.”

“You just finished renovating that new place, right? Can you send us the address so Ryan can hide there for a few days?”

Her words hit me like a wave.

This was exactly how it happened last time.

She had called crying about Ryan being chased by debt collectors and needing my new apartment as a safe house.

In truth, I hadn’t spoken to them in months. I never even told them I bought the place.

My parents had always favored Ryan. From childhood, everything in the house belonged to him except the chores.

After graduation, I finally landed a solid job at a Fortune 500 company.

But Mom and Dad showed up at my office, caused a huge scene, and got me fired because they were afraid I’d move too far away to help my brother.

They only calmed down once I found a position closer to home.

Every time I got paid, some new “emergency” would pop up. Mom would borrow all my money, sometimes leaving me without enough for food.

Once, I needed emergency surgery for appendicitis—two thousand dollars.

I called her in agony, and she cried about how they had no money, then screamed that I was unfilial for eyeing their retirement savings.

Ryan snatched the phone and sneered, “Emily Harper, you’ve been working for years and you can’t even come up with two grand? Stop trying to steal Mom and Dad’s money.”

I nearly threw up blood.

Didn’t he know why I had no money?

I had paid his ten-thousand-dollar wedding expenses, covered the down payment on his house, and funded the renovation on our parents’ old place.

They called it “borrowing,” but they never repaid a cent.

I hung up in tears and borrowed the surgery money from a coworker.

That was the moment I finally understood: no matter how good I was as a daughter, their hearts only had room for Ryan.

After that, I stopped giving them money. When they showed up at my new job and caused another scene, I got fired again.

My heart turned to ice.

I paid them a lump sum to cut ties and never contacted them again.