They Made My Life A Joke For 18 Years, I Stopped Laughing Chapter 08

They Made My Life A Joke For 18 Years, I Stopped Laughing Chapter 08

Gavin strode up and grabbed my arm.

His grip tightened like he was afraid I’d disappear if he loosened it for even a second.

“Willa, why did you withdraw from PCU without telling us?”

His eyes were red, and his voice came out tight.

I stared at him, puzzled.

“What are you doing?”

The coldness in my eyes seemed to startle him. He let go at once.

“I’m… I’m not here to lecture you. It’s just… your joke went too far. You scared the hell out of Mom

and Dad.”

I rubbed the back of my neck.

“That was too far?”

“Funny. None of you ever asked whether your jokes went too far for me.”

Sienna hurried over and caught my sleeve.

Like always, she slipped straight into her sweet peacemaker act.

“Willa, don’t be mad.”

“We were just joking. How were we supposed to know you’d believe us every time?”

I jerked my sleeve out of her hand.

“Let me make this simple: if I’m not laughing, it isn’t a joke.”

All three of them fell silent.

I shook my head.

“Anything else? If not, stop interfering with my life. I have classes to get back to.”

“Wait, Willa.”

As I turned, Gavin caught my forearm again.

“What happened to your hands?”

He stared at my waterlogged fingers, red and swollen around the knuckles. For once, real concern crossed his face.

I pulled free again.

“Washed 563 dishes today. Cheap detergent, I guess.”

“You washed dishes?!”

Ethan’s eyes widened like he couldn’t believe what he had heard.

In their world, it was the kind of work people with money barely even noticed someone had to do.

“Why are you washing dishes? Your parents could wire you a couple hundred grand and you’d be set

for years.”

I laughed.

I looked at Gavin. “You tell me. How much money have Mom and Dad ever actually given me?”

Gavin opened his mouth, then closed it.

Finally, he looked down, ashamed.

Growing up, Gavin got limited-edition sneakers, collectible watches, and birthday gifts worth tens

of thousands of dollars.

For me, even a birthday cake had felt like a luxury.

Anything more, and I was “materialistic.”

Without a word, Ethan opened his alligator-leather briefcase and pulled out a cashier’s check.

“$300,000. Take it.”

I glanced at it, took it, and tossed it straight into the bushes.

“I don’t want your damn money.”

He stared at me, stunned, then muttered, “You’re insane.”

Then he turned to search for the check, but no matter how long he looked, he couldn’t find it.

Sienna frowned. “Willa, why are you so angry now?”

“You weren’t like this when we were kids.”

When we were kids?

That again.

Every mention of my childhood made my blood boil.

I looked at her coldly.

“Was it fun? Treating a kid who only wanted to be included like a dog you could kick around for

entertainment?”

“And Sienna, get this through your head. Don’t say my name like we’re still friends.”

“The moment I blocked you, we stopped being friends.”

With that, I turned and walked away.

Sienna moved to follow me.

One sentence stopped her.

“Say one more word, and I’ll have Westbridge Behavioral Health Center verify every record tied to

that evaluation.”

Westbridge Behavioral Health Center was the facility listed on the evaluation Sienna had shown my

family.

Gavin started to say something else, but Sienna stopped him immediately.

She shook her head, visibly nervous.

“Gavin, don’t.”

“Willa’s angry right now. Just give her space.”

Gavin gave Sienna a long, thoughtful look.

Then he got into the car and drove away from Eastbridge.