Chapter 8
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They wanted drama?
They wanted to weaponize parenthood against me?
Fine.
I'd blow their moral high ground to smithereens,
and them along with it.
I drew a deep breath.
With all eyes on me,
I ignored the HR manager,
didn't even glance at my parents,
but walked straight to Jason.
Before he could react, I snatched the phone from his hands.
I flipped the camera to face me.
My expression wasn't angry or desperate,
but eerily calm, almost serene,
with a touch of pity in my eyes.
I looked directly into the lens and spoke with deliberate clarity,
my voice steady as it carried to thousands of viewers,
to all the strangers watching this circus:
"Hello everyone. I'm Michael Thompson—the 'monster son driving his parents to suicide' you've been watching."
"My parents are putting on this show for one reason only: to force me to hand over my entire life savings—$300,000—to buy a house for my younger brother Jason."
"When their private extortion failed, they escalated to what you're seeing now—invading my workplace to destroy my career and reputation until I cave."
I ignored my parents' frantic attempts to grab the phone.
I pivoted slightly, catching them in frame,
capturing their faces twisted with rage rather than grief.
"You probably think parents like this can't possibly exist."
My voice dripped with bitter irony,
"So let me ask you all a few questions."
"First, would loving parents deliberately destroy one child's career to benefit another?"
"Second," I stared hard into the camera, "my brother Jason is a healthy, educated adult. Why does his marriage require emptying my bank account? Is that family love—or parasitism?"
"Third, and most importantly—"
I paused for effect,
then delivered the question I'd been turning over for years—the one that could shatter their moral facade,
"When you use family obligation as a weapon for extortion, is that honoring family values—or the ultimate perversion of everything family should stand for?"
The comment section exploded, opinions flying in all directions.
My parents, sensing the shift, doubled down on their performance.
Mom threw herself against the wall, wailing: "I carried you for nine months! I gave you life! This is how you repay us?"
The classic guilt trip—the debt of birth that can never be repaid.
Just as the tide of comments began turning against me again,
a commanding elderly voice cut through the chaos:
"Robert! Margaret! When will you two stop this disgraceful behavior!"
