Chapter 1 - The Upholstery Caste System
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My name is Ian. I am thirty-six years old, and I manage three high-volume restaurants in the city. When you spend fifteen years in hospitality, your nervous system essentially dies. I have dealt with drunk patrons throwing chairs, kitchen fires at midnight, and line cooks threatening to duel each other over missing sauce cups.
Because of this, my tolerance for pure human madness is exceptionally high. A normal person sees smoke and panics. I see smoke and calculate the equipment insurance deductible.
Five years ago, my parents, Ron and Linda, ran into a financial brick wall. Dad took an early retirement because he claimed his boss was an idiot. Mom spent money like standard paper was going out of style. They refinanced their mortgage twice, emptied their savings, and invested the rest into a failed barbecue truck named Smoke Wheels.
When the bank was ninety days away from kicking them onto the street, I stepped in. I paid off their mountain of debt, took complete ownership of the title deed, replaced the roof, and fixed the plumbing.
My only condition was simple: cover the basic utilities and property taxes. I wanted them to live comfortably in their golden years. That was my fundamental mistake.
When you give family a three-bedroom house completely rent-free for half a decade, they do not view it as a generous gift. They view it as a birthright.
And then there was my thirty-two-year-old sister, Tessa.
Tessa lived in my parents' spare bedroom for eleven of the last twelve years. She was the undisputed golden child who cycled through new career paths every nine months. She had been a nail technician, a dog whisperer, a candle maker, and most recently, a seller of "intention-based home accessories."
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Tessa was also the sovereign ruler of The Chair—a faded burgundy recliner dominating the living room that belonged to our late grandfather.
Anyone who visited the house was warned never to sit in it. It was Tessa's holy ground. And on a warm Saturday afternoon, my seven-month pregnant wife, Clare, committed the ultimate sin.
